One More Is Never Enough
by Mona001
Summary: First comes love, then comes marriage… Newly married Killian and Emma Jones are ready to continue the trend; they are ready to grow their family by having a child of their own. Easier said than done, they soon find out. The stress of getting pregnant, or not getting pregnant, is a strain they both will have to deal with. It'll be their decision to do it together or… on their own.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** **So here is the sequel to _How Many Chances (Before I Get It Right?)_ I've never connected with an AU version as much as I have with these two. Someone once mentioned that marriage and children were a big part of their story, and I tend to agree. So I am so happy to be able to share a little insight into their lives (and in my angst-filled way, unfortunately).**

* * *

Six months…

The smile that crossed Emma Jones' face wasn't because she and her husband had been married for exactly six months that day. No, it wasn't quite that. It had more to do with his own smile. It had more to do with the way his eyes danced on hers and the way he stretched his hand out across the small candle-lit dinner table of the intimate restaurant.

Emma tilted her head, her eyes sliding down towards the hand that lay palm-up and waiting for her. Watching the way the candlelight caused shadows to flicker across Killian's wedding band, she slipped her fingers over his.

Six months. The thought came with an internal sigh as his fingers closed around hers.

Then she was shaking her head and almost rolling her eyes.

"What is it, love?" Killian's question was a soft murmur as he curled his hand over the fingers that held onto his firmly.

Emma sat up straight in her chair, his hold on her never loosening as she looked back at him.

"I was wondering if you planned on celebrating half-anniversaries from here on out," she asked with a sigh. An eyebrow rose sharply as she stared at him, waiting.

There was now a grin on his face. Killian attempted to sit as straight as she, but the fact that it meant he would have to let go of her hand seemed to stop him.

"Well, this is our first. Six-month mark, that is." The grin remained as he cocked his head just slightly to the side. "It seemed rather special. I thought."

Emma knew he couldn't feel it, but there was a tingle that ran throughout her entire body at his words.

This was her second marriage, so why…

She knew why it was different, why it felt absolutely right and why it filled her to capacity with love, devotion, and appreciation for the man in front of her. Killian Jones was… Not the man of her dreams, because she had never thought to dream so completely. Killian Jones was... everything that she wanted and didn't think she would have. (And, yes, those were the exact words that he had shared with her. There was something quite endearing about sharing those same feelings for one another.) He was the one person who knew her inside-out. He was the one person who had loved her and had taken the time to show her how worthy she was of everything she wanted for herself and beyond.

Six-month wedding anniversary…

"It is special," Emma agreed with a murmur.

His eyes did that dance again, flitting across her face. She watched as his tongue swiped across his bottom lip just as he pulled his chair closer to the table. That was something she'd noticed over time. It was as if he could never get close enough to her. He was always moving to get closer and closer yet.

"Happy anniversary, Emma." It was soft and almost quiet. His fingers squeezed around hers, his eyes remained focused on hers.

What they had was forever, wasn't it? Because the butterflies that flapped wildly in her belly told her that it was forever. She wanted it to be forever…

"Happy anniversary, Killian."

She shouldn't be so lucky. He shouldn't be the dream that he was. But… he is. Her husband is a dream that has given her… God, he's given her life! _Life!_

Emma felt the smile lifting her lips, she felt the tingle of happiness coursing through her body once again. Neither went away as she watched Killian move just then. It wasn't a surprise when his hand left hers so that he could grab at his chair by the seat and drag it and him closer to her.

Bright blue eyes gazing upon her was the last thing she saw before her eyes closed. Killian's kiss found her lips an instant later. Of course he'd moved closer so that he could kiss her. He was impulsive. With her, he was impulsive, giving into any and every whim when it came to showing and expressing his love for her. That's what Emma felt, as her smiling lips pressed against his.

"I love you." It was only a whisper. Her head and her heart made the need to tangle her hand in the thick hair at the nape of his neck almost impossible to ignore…

"I love you,Emma." Killian's murmured voice was even thicker, deeper.

He had less qualms about propriety in the crowded but quiet restaurant. Killian's finger's slipped over both of her cheeks, holding her there so that his mouth could feast upon hers without any regard to where they were and who would see.

 _Lucky_ was one way to think about her life with him. _Complete_ would be…

When Killian slipped away from her, when he grinned at her as he leaned back in his chair and watched her, Emma couldn't contain her own smile. She couldn't give him all the credit for that smile. It also had to do with the other thought that was criss-crossing through her mind with that of her life with her husband and her teenage son.

Henry was only a little over a week from returning from Tallahassee. When he did make it home, he would be sixteen. Her son was sixteen years old. How much longer was she going to wait? Well, if it was up to her…

"What are you thinking now, love?" Killian's murmured question came on the heels of him picking up her hand and leaving a kiss on her knuckles.

Emma took in a shallow breath and looked up at her husband of six months. She gazed at the man who had been such an integral part of her life for almost three years now. She opened her mouth to speak the words, to spill out the thought that she knew he would… love. He would love it, wouldn't he?

It didn't come out… Instead…

"I saw Ruby today," she said lightly. "And the boys." It was her turn to cock her head, as she looked into those interested blue eyes.

"Ahh, the boys!" It was a different smile at the mention of their nephews. "Did Connor ask you if he could come see Henry again?" The smile grew more, and there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"He misses him, I know," Emma sighed. "To a toddler, a summer is a long time."

Connor was just a mere three months shy of turning three years old. Brennan was equally shy from hitting his first birthday. There had been an infatuation, a true friendship and bond that the Jones brother had formed with her teenage son. A bond that had Connor following Henry around whenever possible. Surprisingly, the summer apart had not lessened his ties to his cousin. There had been more than one occasion where Henry had entertained a quick video chat with the two-year-old.

"And now we're under two weeks," Killian pointed out.

"It'll be... a magical experience to witness Connor's reunion with Henry, I'm sure," she agreed. But the thought had her mind spinning again, spinning towards her own family- _their_ family.

"And Brennan?" Killian let him thumb run over her knuckles this time, a soft caress that was as light as his voice.

The smile was involuntary because… wasn't the story always the same when it came to Brennan Jones? Even at nine months old, the little boy had a personality that was all his own A personality that only blossomed as the weeks passed by. Where Connor seemed destined to be the introvert of the pair of siblings, Brennan seemed poised and ready to take on the role of extrovert.

"Well, I think we had fun, judging by the way he grabbed onto my cheeks and made sure that he had my undivided attention as he babbled in conversation with me," Emma told him.

A pensive look that included a raise of his eyebrows and a purse of his lips took over Killian's face.

"Imagine him walking in a month or so." He looked as if he let himself get lost in that thought for a moment. "Liam and Ruby will definitely have their hands full, I'm sure."

Emma's smile was for her husband, for thoughts of _their_ future. She wanted… She wanted so much…

"I remember Henry at that age," she said lightly, feeling as if she, too, could drift off into thought. "I can't believe it's been…." Before she could even fully drift back into a world that was so different from the one she was in now, it was, again, the fact that it had been more than a decade-and-a-half ago.

"Henry's growing fast, I know," Killian murmured, leaning over the table once more.

Emma's eyes connected with his. There was something that wasn't quite on the surface, something that was hidden much farther down. But… he was her husband. She knew him. She knew him just as well as he knew her.

"I think so," she finally agreed. Emma took in a small breath and let it out slowly. "Connor and Brennan? You can already see how different they are from each other. But you can also see the bond between them."

"And it'll only get stronger with time and age." Killian said it in such a matter-of-fact tone that she knew there was no doubt about it in his mind.

 _Family._ It almost made her smile, knowing how much that word meant to him. But it wasn't just simply the word. It was the meaning behind it, the people behind it. There had been a time where he'd told her that it was _she_ who had showed him what _family_ meant, and maybe that was partially true. But if she had shown him, it wasn't because of the fact that she had parents in her life who had always been there and had always wanted to be there. It wouldn't have been because when she was younger, she had been a married woman with a young child. That wasn't the extent of the meaning. _Family_ was what she'd experienced with him as a whole. The fact that she knew that there had to be something even more to what it meant was sitting right there on her heart.

"They have no choice _but_ to be close, is that it?" Emma asked, only half-teasing her husband.

"No matter what, Connor will be a great big brother to Brennan. Just as Liam is to me." A corner of Killian's mouth lifted up as he smiled at her.

There it was, again. Family. _Family._ A family that had once consisted of on Killian and Liam, and then expanded to include wives and…

"I'm sure he'll be a… great big cousin, too," Emma sighed, turning a watchful and careful eye on him. "Something you guys missed out on experiencing."

"Connor as a big cousin?" Killian was slow to straighten up in his seat, his gaze never leaving hers.

She liked the anxiousness that coursed through her because… it was right there, wasn't it? Right there for them both to grasp onto only six months into their marriage.

"Perhaps a bit jealous though," he murmured, lifting his chin in thought.

Emma bit down on her lip, offering him her narrowed gaze to him. "Jealous?"

"He looks at Henry as he would his own older brother," Killian reminded her with a shrug. "Might feel a twinge of jealousy at being replaced by someone who can actually call Henry his brother. But other than that…"

The change in conversation, the light tones… It put a silly smile on her face.

"'His,' huh?" Emma asked lightly. "Do we have a preference for the gender of our baby already?"

They didn't talk about their future children. Not much. So…

"To be honest, a son would be nice," Killian conceded in a quick murmur. "Then, again, a daughter would be…" There was something… unique and miniscule about the change on his face. "She'd be a princess in my eyes, I'm sure."

Emma's smile was sudden and small. Her heart felt as if it would almost burst under the feelings of happiness spreading through her. Yes, they were all quite content with the family they now had, but the idea of having their own child together…

"Killian?" She tilted her head to the side, her eyes blinking down on the table between them.

She watched as his hand slid across the table.

"Yes, my love?" There might have been a hint of hope lacing his voice as his hand grasped her own.

Emma looked back up at him, her eyes only a bit wide at the thought of the question that was about to leave her mouth. "Do you think that six months is too soon to start trying to get pregnant?"

Killian's fingers held even more firmly onto her hand, an involuntary act, she was sure.

"I think it's the perfect time to start trying," he whispered in answer. He let the curiosity slip through the calm facade. "Emma, are you sure?"

"I am." There wasn't a need for even a second of hesitation. "I'm ready, if you are."

Killian squinted his eyes at her, watching her silent for only a moment before…

"Damn it, love." His smile was small, a glint in his eyes shone her way. "Let's get the check and be on our way."

Of course.

Emma laughed, a soft and quiet laugh that had her flipping her hand over in his and holding on firm.

No, it wasn't _only_ for him, because she wanted their baby just as much as he did, but the excitement over giving him the child she knew he wanted so badly filled her to capacity.

"Sounds like a great idea."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I see a trend forming... I think updates won't be as frequent as I normally like to in a multi-chapter fic. It'll probably be two weeks or so in-between chapters. I think that totally sucks, but at least it's being written!**

* * *

 **Seven months later...**

"Just a sec, Connor." Killian murmured the command as he threw a glance over his shoulder. His three-year-old nephew was slowly hopping from one rainboot-covered foot to the other, his wide blue gaze staring back up at Killian. "I just have to get your car seat and then we'll be on our way in."

Killian turned back to finish unlocking the car seat from the middle of the backseat, secure in the fact that Connor would stay put and not run off to his front door.

"Bloody…" Maneuvering the seat this way and that, with a grimace of his lips, "Hell." It wasn't until it finally detached itself from the middle of his car, allowing Killian to back out with it that he unclenched his jaw. He'd won that battle, which was all that mattered. With seat in hand, he was quick to turn his attention back to the boy.

"Uncle Killian?"

Killian wondered if Connor had the foresight to know that he was on the verge of being caught, and that was the only reason for him calling out to him…

He had found a good-sized puddle only a foot or so away from where Killian had put him. Taking in the the anxious thumb to his mouth and the laser-like concentration he'd had on the puddle...

"Connor, no splashing," Killian warned, watching the toe of his boot fall into the puddle, sending a ripple of rings to follow.

"I _didn't_." The young lad turned innocent-enough eyes onto his uncle, yet the second boot was close to joining the first.

Killian felt the tug of his lips into a half-smile. He loved the fact that children at Connor's age were so very literal. No, he hadn't splashed… just yet. There had only been a dip of his rainboot into the deep-looking puddle that was at his disposal.

He grabbed the large car seat with one hand, hoisting it high in the air and closing the door behind him. Turning his full attention back to his nephew, he scooped the boy into his free arm, his legs swinging in the air as the moved away from the car and the puddle, making their way to the house.

Killian didn't attempt to cross the dampened and mushy lawn of his brother and sister-in-law's home. Spring might have brought with it the idea of sunshine and flowers, but that wasn't the case so far for the earliest part of April in Boston. The soggy earth would have probably delighted his nephew, but it wouldn't have excited his mother when she saw him.

His steps stuttered as he walked passed the minivan that was parked in front of him. Knowing his brother, the doors would be locked. There was no reason to even stop to try to leave the car seat there. The wet ground didn't seem like the perfect place to set it… But that was not the only reason for the stuttered steps. He knew it, knew it as clear as day. Not that he was ready to turn fully towards the luxury of fold-flat third-row seats or having an affinity to power-sliding doors. How many times had he made fun of Liam for Ruby having talked him into the family minivan when there had barely been a bump to talk of? Now there was more than a bump. In fact, Bump number one was was latched to his hip at the present moment.

Killian licked at his lip as he hoisted his nephew up more. One day…

Well, he still might not be ready for the minivan, but he was ready for this right here. He was… beyond ready.

Killian didn't put Connor back to his feet until they reached the very top of the porch. It was then that the little boy offered a quick smile before running up to the door and reaching as high as he could for the doorbell.

"Are you ready to see your dad, is that it?" Killian asked with a raised eyebrow.

"And my brother Brennan."

As Killian's gaze fell down on Connor, he found his head fallen back and his own eyes on him.

"Brennan's sick and stayed with Daddy," Connor reminded him.

"Aye, that he is," Killian agreed, the smile on his face now growing. His hand came down to rest on the top of Connor's brown head, turning him back towards the door. "Let's see how he's doing now, hm?"

Connor nodded his head, dutifully standing in front of the door and waiting for his uncle to open it.

Killian held in his huff of laughter at the three-year-old as he pressed his thumb to the doorbell. It must have been the straightlaced stance of the boy that drew his gaze back down. He was not yet halfway through his third year of life, and there was something about the quiet calmness that had a way of coming over Connor Jones. It was hard for Killian to place where it came from. Perhaps it was the strain of shyness that overtook the boy at certain moments. Perhaps… And where had that come from? Where had he inherited the need to shy away from unfamiliar faces and stay close to those who he deemed vital in his life? A mix of Ruby and Liam had created Connor Jones, but that wasn't completely it, because it had been a mixture of Ruby and Liam that had created…

Liam had barely gotten the door open before the whirlwind that was Brennan Jones swept through, making his way through the tight opening and practically attacking his brother in a hug that had his arms wrapping around the slightly larger waist of Connor.

"Killian, hey," Liam breathed out.

He looked up to his own brother in time to see him bending at the knee to scoop up both the fourteen-month-old and the three-year-old in an arm.

"Hello, my boy," Liam murmured, placing a quick kiss on Connor's cheek just as the boy's arms wrapped around his neck.

"Hi, Daddy." There was a brightness in Connor's eyes as he clawed his way even more up Liam's side.

"Hi, Daddy," Killian mocked, leaving the car seat to lean against the wall beside him.

Liam raised both eyebrows towards Killian, swinging around and stepping away from the door.

"Killy!" It came out as a shriek. Good thing Liam hadn't moved far, because with outstretched arms, Brennan came lunging towards Killian with an energy that was reserved only to him. "Killy!"

Ahh, quite the opposite of Connor!

"Brennan!" The name left Killian's mouth with the rush of air that shot out of his body.

The toddler didn't stay put. He wasn't satisfied with hugging his uncle and settling on his hip like his brother had done. No. Brennan, sit still? The thought was almost laughable. He scrambled up the side of Killian until knees hit somewhere close to his ribs. Then he was sliding down that same side, forcing Killian to take a firm grasp of his arms until Brennan was hanging a foot off the floor, his knees raised, and swinging happily across Killian's body.

"You're looking like the picture of health, my boy," Killian muttered, not quite astounded by his nephew.

"He seems to be doing a bit better, yes."

Killian looked up in time to see Liam's tired face as he took a firmer hold on the three-year-old by holding him in both arms. He lifted his own lightweight, creating a wider space between Brennan's feet and the floor.

"Were you able to get any of the work done that you wanted to then?" "Killian twisted his head in his brother's direction, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Well, although you may not be able to tell now, Brennan did sleep a fair amount of his morning and part of his afternoon away," Liam murmured, tugging at one of Connor's rainboot and then the other.

"Actually." It left Killian's mouth as a murmur, his head tilting at the thought of how, in some ways, he could tell that Brennan was a well-rested little monster.

He was greeted by a toothy grin and familiar bright blue eyes. For a moment, suspended in air, Killian saw more than Liam in his youngest son. He saw something more than just the Jones' lineage. What he saw was his nephew's namesake. It had taken Killian a moment to understand… It wasn't that Liam had badmouthed their father to him. What he _had_ done was tell him how Killian hadn't missed out on much by having very few memories of the man who had left them and their mother. So… why then….

Brennan's features were… Brennan's features, their _father's features._ So… had it been a tribute to their father in giving the newest member of the Jones' family the same name? Killian would chalk it up to Liam's sentimentality at that time. Yes, it was the only way to explain it…

It also saved him from ever making that choice. For his own son…

His smile grew at that thought. _His own son_. His own son _with Emma._

Killian hoisted Brennan up into his arms, ignoring the protest of the young boy from being confined by his uncle's arms. It was absently that he both held on tighter, lifted a warning eyebrow to Brennan, and followed Liam from their spot at the doorway and further into the house. Absently, because…

It was thoughts of the words Emma had spoken to him that morning, of how she'd walked away from him _._ _Stalked_ sounded about right. She had _stalked_ right out of the room and had found herself downstairs. It hadn't come as a surprise that she'd packed everything she needed for the day and had it all waiting for her in the living room.

Killian wanted to shake the thoughts from his head. A squealing Brennan, ready to get out of his arms, followed by the footsteps of Connor being recently deposited as well, didn't help…

Seven months. Why couldn't she see it the way he saw it? It had only been seven months. Just because that hadn't conceived yet…

"How are you doing, Killian?"

His eyes drifted up to his brother, seeing how he'd placed his hands at his waist and had given him a hard stare.

Killian lifted an eyebrow, trying to give into the distraction. But it wasn't going to be a distraction, was it?

"How did Connor do?" Liam asked, his gaze narrowing on Killian.

"Connor was a pleasure, as usual," he assured him. He lifted a shoulder absently. "I mean, after I reminded him that Henry was off to school, that is." It put a genuine smile on his face. "When I let him know that it would be just him and I for the day."

"Good." Except… there was something else on his face, something about the shadow that cast there, that said he was thinking more. There was something on his face that said that he knew his little brother.

This time, Killian lifted a corner of his mouth, a half-smile that…

"It was a testing day," he finally explained.

Killian only watched his brother long enough to see the slight tilt of his head. Only a moment, because his own gaze fell back to the kids who had found each other once more, little brother following after older brother in a giggling fit.

Seven months… wasn't a very long time. That wasn't a long time to have been trying to conceive a child. He knew that. He just didn't know how successful he had been in convincing his wife of that.

Liam took a step closer, his eyes squinting on Killian. " _No?"_ The anticipation he saw from his brother was all too familiar.

He wished that he'd asked the question that morning without the hint of hope that had laced his voice. Emma had picked up on that hint of hope as soon as she had walked out of the bathroom. She'd known the answer already. He, too, should have known the answer by the vibe she had been giving off. Yet, he'd still held onto hope...

"So…"

"Not this time," Killian finished for the open-ended and lingering comment.

"Not _this_ time." Liam's observation put a smile of Killian's face even before he continued. "You two have been married for a year. You don't need to give into stress about not being pregnant on your first attempt."

It was a sentiment that Killian shared, but… Emma's voice, her face, flashed through his mind. _What about the not being pregnant on the second, or third, or fifth, or seventh attempt?_

He glanced down at the now-running and giggling twosome that kept his brother and sister-in-law on their toes. The twosome that filled his own house with an energy whenever they were there. So… so the sentiment wasn't always so easy to commit to.

"Exactly." It was a half-hearted response. The thought of wrapping his wife up in his arms and holding her close, crossed his mind. A thought that he wished he'd see into fruition that morning, but certainly had not.

"Come on."

Killian looked up at Liam to see that he was already on the move, already trailing behind the laughter of his sons that were coming from a room away.

"You're staying, right?"

Killian gave a short nod. "Aye, for a little while." He smiled at his brother just as he began to follow behind him. "Connor allowed me to easily get work done while he was home with me."

It was Liam's turn to smirk. "I'm sure."

* * *

He wondered if it could be summed up as jealousy… Sometimes, the term seemed to fit. It should have never been a time when that was the case.

Killian had returned Connor no more that thirty minutes before Ruby had made it home as well. By that time, his newness must have worn off in the eyes of Brennan, and Mommy became the target of the hugs and kisses and the attachments.

Watching the way both trailed behind their mother had Killian placing a hand over his mouth and shaking his head. The new generation. And all headed up by his brother. Connor. Brennan.

He was quick to turn around, finding Liam somewhere behind him.

"You're one lucky bastard, do you know that?" There was a hint of playfulness in the question, but full of honesty as well.

It came out of nowhere, but Liam glanced at him, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

"Yeah, I know that." This time, a smile curved his lips. It disappeared quickly though, a slight frown replacing it. "So are you, you know."

Killian _did_ know that. It wasn't that… he didn't _know_ that.

"Okay," Liam drew out slowly. "Ruby is entertaining the boys. Or," the grin was instant, "perhaps the boys are doing the entertaining." He looked right at his brother, his eyes scrutinizing. "Did you need a shoulder to lean on, Killian? Do you need to say something out loud that you haven't been able to do yet?"

The open invitation… Killian scraped his teeth over the inner part of his lip as he shook his head.

The sharp cry and then giggle of a fourteen-month-old that filled… probably the entire lower level of the house, took his mind somewhere else though. Somewhere that didn't want to waste the opportunity that his brother had put right in front of him.

Killian's attention turned back towards Liam, who stood at his side. Confidentiality and a need for an open and unfiltered ear made him step even closer to his brother, his hand flying up to his mouth as he took a second to only look at him.

Perhaps it was that stance that had Liam turned even further into his brother, his head dipping in wait of Killian to speak.

"Tell me what you think, Liam," Killian began, keeping the sheer need to have someone confirm what he believed all to him. "I can see the negativity building up in Emma. Sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes."

"Over trying… to get pregnant?" Lian met Killian's eyes, a brow raising in question.

He nodded his head, his teeth once again gnashing at his lip. "I understand. I… I really do. I mean…" It wasn't thoughts of Connor and Brennan that crossed his mind in a flash, but that of a nameless, veil-faced baby being cuddled in his wife's arms. "I want our child just as much as Emma does."

"So why is _she_ upset to the point of thinking it won't happen when you're the complete opposite, is that what you're wondering?" Liam eyes widened at his own question.

That was exactly what he was wondering…

"Everything says… a year, Liam," Killian reminded him.

"I remember."

He didn't let his mind dwell on the fact that Liam and Ruby had both boys in the span or two years…

"It hasn't been a year yet," he continued instead.

"Not much more than half of that," Liam pointed out quietly.

There wasn't quite an easiness overcoming him in the wake of his brother agreeing with him, but it did feel good to _not_ be negative in that moment.

"Listen, Killian." His voice was as firm as the hand coming down on Killian's shoulder. "I know that you understand why Emma was upset this morning about another negative pregnancy test. I _know_ you understand that Emma has a right to be upset over it, as well. What I also hope you know is that… it's okay that _you_ are not be upset by it." Liam pulled his hand away and took a step back so that he could look at Killian. "I can see it all over your face, the anxiousness."

Anxious… Killian's fingers slipped up slowly to the spot behind his ear, his head angling into the scratch.

Liam smiled this time, his head shaking once. "And it's not over _not_ being pregnant. I know you're looking forward to expanding not only _our_ family, but the corner of it that's all yours."

What settled in Killian's chest this time was a mixture of that anxiousness and, once more, hope. And thoughts of his future… A future that had looked bright from the moment Emma Swan had walked into his life with walls in need of being torn down. Life had been a dream for most of that time, showcasing what could really be in store for someone like him. A life that, with love, honesty, and hard work, was everything that he wanted and everything that he _needed_.

Was it an obstacle in their way? It felt like an obstacle. Seven months. But… only seven months. It didn't mean…

He did want that corner that was all his. It wasn't so many years ago that it had only been he and Liam. Before Ruby. Before Emma and Henry. Before Connor and Brennan. It had only been the two of them. A fledgling sort of thing that was still family. When family meant everything to a man, then two meant a hell of a lot. But now… now… two had become seven and… there was a stronger than ever pull from somewhere way down deep inside of Killian that needed it to be more.

"I have all the faith in the world, Liam." It came out gravelly, the bit of emotion hitting him from all angles. Killian squinted his eyes on his brother, looking deeply for the understanding that he knew he would find there. "Emma used to, as well." He felt the instant purse of his lips as he exhaled a small breath. It wasn't until recently. Like she'd said... Instead of seven becoming eight, it had been one month, then two months, then three… And now? Now, it was seven…

"Then keep having faith for the both of you," Liam said with a quick shrug. "Emma will have her times, granted." His chin with up slightly, an eyebrow raising with it. "Perhaps you will, too. It might come in cycles, little brother."

Killian heard his own involuntary sigh.

"So you lean on each other when you need to," Liam continued, catching Killian's eye before he had time to look away. "When she's weak, let her know that you're there for her. And whenever you need that, the roles reverse. Hey, Killian?" His hand clamped back over his shoulder, strong and firm. "Take it from me: that is what marriage is all about."

There was something about the two most influential figures in his life…

"Aye, you're right." Killian let his head head bob up and down in a nod of agreement. "You're right, Liam." It was never hard to concede to those who knew him best.

Liam's hand moved from Killian's shoulder to playfully ruffle the hair that fell right over his forehead.

"I'm excited for you you guys, too." It came with a sudden grin. A grin that had Killian twisting his head away from his brother. "So are you, right? Right?"

It wasn't quite a grin, but there was a smile that crept across his face.

"Aye." That simple affirmation brought the thought of their child swaddled in a blanket and in Emma's arms back with a vengeance. "I'm excited." He almost shrugged off the other thoughts, tried not to think too much on what it would be like… It didn't help. He saw the matching green eyes staring right at each other as his son sat on his mother's lap. He saw it so clearly that his right palm began to ache from the need to capture it on a sketchpad with a pen.

The smile this time had no pretense. "I'm very excited."


	3. Chapter 2

"How is everything going, Emma?"

Tilting her head, Emma wondered if Dr. Hopper realized that he'd asked her a complex question. Sitting on the couch across from his chair, she wondered if she was either reading more into it or if he was expertly leading her down a path that would have her spilling her insides out for only the two of them to hear.

It caused a lift of her lips, an _almost_ smile. She had been seeing him for nearly three years now, so… Of course she knew the answer to that. Of course she knew that she was reading into a simple question that was a varied version of one he'd normally began their meetings with.

"Everything's fine." The words slipped from her mouth even as she began to determine if they were true or not. And… they were.

"Is that so?"

Emma made eye contact with the man this time. She saw the ease in which he sat across from her. The wire-rimmed glasses sat perched on his nose as he looked at her. His body language read easy as he sat with one knee crossed over the other. He looked engaged and ready, ready to listen to anything and everything that she wanted to talk about. But he had started with _How is everything going, Emma_ and _Is that so…_ They were not words, nor questions, that made her feel at ease as he would have liked to think.

"There are some aspects of my life that I can't believe are actually real and true," she told him, again a small smile lighting her face. It was nice to start with the good things. It was nice to start with the things that made her so happy in life. And weren't there many of those?

"We can start with the good," Dr. Hopper said assuringly.

Three years, hm… Emma didn't mind that he had a healthy knowledge of who and what she was. What little tension that had been sitting on her shoulders began to dissipate because of that fact.

"I think it's important to acknowledge all the progress I have made in life, since I've began on this journey towards health and happiness," she agreed, even feeling a bit lighter by the idea. Thinking back on where she'd came from, what life used to be like… "I… It was never… an easy thing to do, to make friends. To have real friendships." Another quick smile graced her lips as she paused, just for a second. "So many things have changed for me in these past few years. I think about what it was like to move from apartment to apartment, attempting to give Henry his best chance in life. And I think about how it felt to never feel as if I was succeeding when it came to really and truly providing for my son on that emotional level that included giving him a stable family foundation."

"It sounds as if you're putting all of that in the past tense," Dr. Hopper commented softly.

"Because that part is," Emma agreed with a sigh. "I've never been happier than I am now when it comes to the relationships I've formed and the life that I am now leading. With Killian…." It was instant, the need to pause. It was instant, the thought of the man who changed her. "I have an amazing life, I know. I have the husband and marriage that seemed like a pipe dream. We've been married for a year and am living in the _house_ that I never thought I would have. I have made friendships- real and true friendships- with other women in ways that _never_ seemed possible." The smile was reminiscent this time. "I have extended family that means the world to me."

"Emma, are these new aspects in your life?" Dr. Hopper asked. There was a hint of furrow in his brows as he watched her.

It was that look that made the need to reminiscence go away…

"Not particularly new," she whispered. But… "Isn't that amazing?" She felt the need to be closer. Leaning over, clasping her hands together and leaning over the couch, it became a bit conspiratory. "It's not particularly new because… it's been such a constant in my life. Family, friends, stability, and happiness… have all been a part of my life for so long now."

It was Dr. Hopper's turn to smile, a tiny smile as he, too, leaned over in his chair.

"I feel as if there is a 'but' in there somewhere," he whispered back.

"Well, my depression is under control, but it isn't gone, now is it?" Emma asked lightly. _Controlled_ was the key word though, wasn't it?

Three years. She'd been doing under his care for three years and… it had been everything that she needed. Before she'd taken the initiative to find out what was wrong with her, and before she had taken the initiative to take her life in her own hands, she had been a veritable mess. The depression had spiraled almost uncontrollably as different times in her life, leaving her almost stagnant. It hadn't been fun. It had been a reality. It had been her life. But now…

"Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way," Dr. Hopper conceded. There was a slight tilt of his head, his fingers came up to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and his eyes never left hers. "Emma."

There was no point in beating around the bush. There was no reason to keep in the anxiety-induced reason for being there that early that afternoon.

"We had a... " She almost said _fight_ , but that wasn't right. "An argument. This morning. Or… maybe it was just me…" It was her turn to tilt her head. "Acting out in frustration."

"What happened, Emma?" It was soft, not quite a whisper.

Her eyes blinked at the memory and she controlled the tears.

"Testing day." Her answer was a whisper. "And…" She gave her head a good shake. "I already knew. I knew that it was going to be negative. I just… I knew."

It was Killian's face. The excitement glossing over every bit of him. She knew he tried, tried not to show the excitement of _that_ time of the month. She knew he tried to school his features when she walked out of the bathroom with a definitive answer that had been the same for seven months already.

Emma recognize the instant her mouth began to tighten, drawing together until she was biting down on her inner lip.

"You received a negative result."

Dr. Hopper's deduction had been the correct one, making Emma's draw right back to him.

"It's been seven months," she reminded him. "We've been trying to get pregnant for the last seven months."

'We've discussed your trying to get pregnant many times since you've began trying to conceive." Dr. Hopper blinked his eyes on her, a solemn and unclear look on his face. "Lately, there's a different connotation and feeling behind it though."

Yes, she could agree with that… Emma found herself staring right at him, feeling the need to unburden herself in a way that she hadn't been able to do before. It was in that same moment that Killian came to mind again. There was a part of her that wished that he was there, a part of her that wished that she could say everything that was on the tip of her tongue to _him._

"I feel it… trying to come over me." She didn't want the sheen of tears welling her eyes to fall. "I don't want to go to some dark place just because I can't get pregnant."

The two elements were almost equal in weight. The fear of falling into some dark abyss that she wouldn't know how to get out of and that of never having another child, of never having a child with Killian.

"Not 'can't,' Emma." Dr. Hopper waited until she was once again looking at him. There was a look of… calm. A look of... understanding. "'Haven't.' You _haven't_ gotten pregnant yet. That doesn't mean that it won't happen."

Sometimes… Wasn't it easy for those who were _not_ her to exchange the words so easily? They didn't seem so interchangeable to her. When she sat there, empty and devoid of the one thing she wanted more than anything else in this world. When she sat there, with a dwindling hope of what might never be...

Seven months… If she had to be alone when it came to facing the fact that… that it might not happen…

Dr. Hopper was reminding her of Killian…

"They are two very completely different ideals," he continued firmly. "I have a feeling that you don't like to hear this, but you must realize that attempting to conceive a child for seven months and being unsuccessful up to that point does not mean that you are a failure and will not become pregnant."

The dip of her head was involuntary as she lightly pushed all ten fingers through her hair.

"I-" Emma's attempt to batter her heart even more was thwarted by his end of the conversation. She hadn't been able to tell him that, no, seven months was long enough to feel like an absolute failure. Seven months! Who took seven months to conceive a child when they were actively trying? It hadn't taken seven months to conceive Henry.

"Has there been any medical intervention or consultation up to this point?" he asked.

Her eyes settled back on his, and she made sure that her mouth wasn't hanging open in exasperation.

"Everything says you try for twelve months before seeking medical intervention," she conceded, knowing that was exactly where Dr. Hopper wanted her to go. Emma felt the sudden scrunch of her face, feeling the need to be validated and _not_ only talk in terms of numbers and statistics. "It's been seven months of nothing but trying and failing. And if you think that's an easy concept to live through-"

"Your feelings are valid and deserved to be taken into consideration, Emma, I assure you," he confirmed.

For a second, it eased the hurt because… there were hurt feelings involved. Feelings of hurt and pain mixed with confusion. Only for a second. Thoughts of how she'd left the house that morning came back with a force, invading her thoughts to the point of needing to release them all.

"I can see myself pushing everything back because of it," she began quietly. Her eyes slid to the wall that was behind Dr. Hopper, concentrating on the framed artwork found there.

"Everything?" he asked inquisitively.

It wasn't everything, was it? Not just yet.

"Killian," Emma admitted. She still didn't look back at him. "Like… the fact that I snapped at him this morning." The sudden intake of breath surprised her, but allowed for her to take another second.

"What happened this morning, Emma?" The question was gentle, not pressing, but…

She got it. She understood. The look of Killian's face. Why it was there.

"Sometimes… and it's becoming a _thing_ now… Sometimes, I can't take the happiness he expresses." There. It was out. The truth. Sometimes, it was too much.

" _I'm not pregnant, Killian." The purse became even tighter, her lips became a grim and thin straight line._

" _This time." He said it slowly, carefully, and with more than a hint of hope._

 _And she hated it. She absolutely hated it._

" _Or any other time."_

Recalling the moment hurt twofold. It left her hand to find a spot over her flat stomach. It left her with memories of one more failed test. But… she didn't miss the flicker of gold and diamond from both her engagement and wedding rings. It made her think of her husband. Her husband had not deserved to have her turn on her heel and walk away from him.

"Killian's happy by the thought of being pregnant," Dr. Hopper said.

"And then it's my job to break it to him, month after month, that he's excited for no reason," Emma added, because wasn't that the important part of the whole thing?

"You used to be happy at the thought of being pregnant," he reminded her.

"After seven months of trying, well…" Emma felt her gaze harden on him. There was a steeliness to that look, she knew. "The continuous feeling of failure might have dimmed the excitement."

"And you want the same for Killian." It wasn't a question, but a statement. A statement that…

It hurt, just a little bit. Her heart ached just a little bit at the thought of Killian's constant optimism.

"I took it out on him, didn't I?" Emma already knew the answer to that question. "My own pain."

Dr. Hopper lifted a corner of his mouth in a somewhat kind of a smile. "It's not time to panic, Emma. It's not time to worry about never being able to have another child because it hasn't happened in these last seven months."

It wasn't the time to panic. Her own doctor was trying to convince her of that. It didn't stop the anxiety from building up in her. It didn't stop the fear of knowing and recognizing what she'd always been. Always been? She wasn't supposed to be _that_ person anymore. She was working on herself, had been working on herself for years now.

"That's not it." Another statement from Dr. Hopper. "What is it, Emma? What are you thinking?"

The truth. She'd speak the truth because that's what he was there for: to help her with being whole and giving up those feelings of sadness that had once been anchored to her core.

"I'm thinking about… how I… I don't want it to break me." Even if that admission had the prospect of breaking her just a little bit, Emma sat up straight and stared across at the man in front of her. "I don't want to spiral into a depression that is going to be hell to get out of."

"Does it feel that way, Emma?" he asked quietly. "Does it feel like you're close to losing yourself because you're not pregnant?"

"I feel… like it's such a possibility," she answered truthfully. Painfully.

For a moment, they were both quiet. The sadness that consumed her wasn't that all-consuming sadness, thank God! No, it was the sadness of that morning, the sadness over so many mornings over the past seven months. Seven months. Her hand fell back over her stomach, an emptiness settling in there. Of course, right?

"I was thinking?" Emma swallowed the lump in her throat, swallowed down all that emotion.

"What were you thinking, Emma?"

Her eyes met his, trying very hard to tamper the sadness. "I was thinking that maybe therapy wouldn't be enough. If maybe I'd need to try a medication that will help."

Dr. Hopper was very skilled at training his face, so it was difficult to know what exactly had just crossed his mind.

"Antidepressants are not a good thing if you are attempting to get pregnant, Emma." That was his answer. "I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but I honestly don't believe that antidepressants are the way to go right now."

"Not now," she repeated quietly.

"It hasn't been a year, Emma."

It was supposed to be a positive reminder… It simply reminded her of her seven months of failure. She felt the single tear as if welled in her eye and slipped over her cheek.

"Maybe…" The need to swallow hit her again. "Maybe I can increase my therapy sessions?" Her eyes blinked up at him then, looking for a sign of agreement.

His smile was small. "There's been moments in time where you've needed to see me less and times where you've needed to see me more. If this is one of those 'more' chunks in time, then we can do that, Emma."

She nodded her head, sniffing back the emotion that was trying to subside.

"Okay, Dr. Hopper."

It wasn't gone, the feeling of sadness, but it was subsiding. At least for now. And for now… for now, that was going to have to be good enough.

* * *

"I love it!"

Belle French's exclamation put a genuine smile of Emma's face. She had to agree with her. As of now, the display of the new spring collection was mostly in the planning stages. Designs of how to style the pastel-colored blouses that would be accentuated by the softness of the earthtones bottoms had seemed to hit them both with inspiration. Emma imagined the softness of the lighting as well. Just the right lighting that would hit on the set of three mannequins and the display of garments on the two display tables.

"It'll be nice, I think," Emma agreed, her head tilting towards Belle.

"It makes me excited to get started," Belle said wistfully, scooping up the sketchpad that showed an overlay of the entire scheme.

"Excited enough to begin today?"

"Well," Belle's gaze lifted up to hers, "not _that_ excited. There's a lot of work to be done in taking down the old display." She shook her head. "No, if it's alright with you, I think tomorrow morning will be just fine." She was on the move then, a smile slipping over her lips as she moved over towards the other side of the room.

Emma placed her hands on her hips, her own smile small. There was just a small lift of her eyebrow as she contemplated her friend and coworker's comment.

"I think there is plenty for us to do today, so holding off until tomorrow won't be a problem," she agreed.

It was the lone male mannequin that had drew Belle's attention. She stood in front of it, her hand slipping out to grasp the fabric at the bottom of the button-down shirt.

"I was thinking about…"

"Accessories?" Emma asked, knowingly.

The shirt fell from her fingers and the telltale taps of Belle's heels tapped heavily on the floor as she moved again.

"Accessories."

It came with years of working side by side. Not only that though. It wasn't the fact that the two had been a team for years, as they watched others come and go as visual merchandisers. No. The smile on Emma's face grew because there had been an additional component to their _friendship_ that had happened over time. It was a friendship that had blossomed over a very specific time in her life…

"But nothing too clunky, you know what I mean?" Belle continued. "Maybe some strong and bold colors though."

"Something like…" The thought of mentioning the type of belt or jewelry accessory paused at the incoming message coming into her phone.

"It's not a problem."

Emma only glanced over at Belle as she began to move towards the desk where her phone was sitting.

"Sounds like Killian," Belle continued, a smile easily detected in her voice. "I can't take care of all of this."

Killian. Yes. That had been his text tone cutting into their work day. Emma slipped her hand down her opposite arm, a nervous habit that she chose to ignore.

She angled her head, twisting to try to read the phone from upside down until she could flip it in the right direction. The reason for the nervous tension was explained easily. The thought walking out on him that morning clouded her mind, leaving her with an ache in the middle of her chest.

 _Just checking up on you. How did your session go?_

Emma let out a small breath at his words, letting a warm feeling supercede the painful ache. She grabbed the phone, her fingers poised and ready to return his message. Just… what was she supposed to say, when his first words to her since she'd left that morning was that he just wanted to check up on her and to know how her session had gone?

Her mouth twisted as her fingers swiped across the keyboard.

 _ **Things went really well today.**_

It didn't feel like enough. Not really.

 _ **We got through a lot of things today. It was a really good session.**_

It was only a matter of seconds before the ringtone was singing to her once more.

 _Good._

 _I was worried about you._

Emma stared down at the message, wanting very much to fix what she'd messed up that morning. She left her fingers poised over the screen, her mind accepting and then rejecting thought after thought.

 _Are you busy? Do you have a minute to talk?_

 _ **I can talk.**_

Emma glanced back over at Belle, seeing the way she had lost herself in the bin that held a mixture of accessories.

"I'm going to step out for just a second," she told her, already making her way towards the door.

"Go ahead, Emma." Belle looked up at her, a smile already on her face. "And tell your husband I said hi."

The phone in her hand began to ring.

"Will do," she assured her friend. She was already on her way, moving towards the door and towards a little privacy. Her finger slid over the bar, connecting the call, and she quickly placed the phone to her ear. "Hello."

Just knowing that it was him… An apology formed on her lips, almost spilling out before he could even greet her back.

"Hello, Emma."

She found a spot on the wall right outside the room to lean back against.

"I'm sorry, Killian." There! The pent-up pain began to subside just a little.

He was quiet for a moment, the line going silent. It was only her deep intake of breath that filled the air.

"I'm sorry, too, Emma." It was a soft murmur, full of emotion. But… his apology meant something else. His apology was _for_ something else. "One test doesn't make or break us. If not this time…" It was the fact that there had been one more negative test that morning instead of a positive one.

Emma let her eyes fall close, a sigh once again on her lips. She pulled the phone away from her ear as the same thing that constantly fell from own lips spilled out once more. She wanted to dismiss those words, she wanted to brush them away. Instead…

If there was one thing that she didn't want to hear, it was the speech that she would have gotten that morning. She may have realized that she had been wrong to walk out of him in a fit of frustration, but it didn't change the fact that it _hurt._ Seven months, and it hurt like hell to see the negative sign taking up space in the window of the pregnancy test.

"Killian." Emma shut her mouth tight, her lips pressing firmly together as she brought the phone back to her ear. A second. Just a second more.

She could hear his own intake of breath, ragged, deep, and slow.

"Tell me about your day, love," Killian said, changing the subject and turning away from pregnancy talk. "How has work been?" He didn't ask with the sole purpose of changing the subject, she knew that. He had asked because… he sincerely wanted to know. He'd asked because he was… invested in her.

There had been a growing tension coursing through her body? How had she not felt the depth of that tension, not until it was seeping away again at Killian's words.

"Belle and I are making plans for the new display," she told him, standing flat against the wall. "Big spring collection is coming out, so…"

"Ah, that was… Hope Sanders?" he asked, sounding rather pensive when trying to recall the minor detail about her job.

"Faith." Emma's smile was instant. She let her back slip off the wall, turning towards the opened door. "It's the Faith Sanders collection."

"Right," Killian sighed. "Faith Sanders."

The little details. It was one of the things she appreciated the most about him.

"You're not staying over tonight, are you?" he asked curiously.

Emma shook her head to herself. "No, I'm not staying late tonight. We were just talking about how we'll leave the display for tomorrow anyway. Although there's still a lot more to do before today is over." Speaking of… He was having a busy day as well, wasn't he? "How did things go with Connor?"

"I… didn't get as much work done as I thought I would," Killian said slowly. "Other than that, we had an amazing morning. And an even more amazing afternoon since we made it back to his house."

She tried to make sure that the fact that he was spending time with his nephew instead of his own…

"Are you still at Ruby' and Liam's then?" she asked softly, her eyes slipping back into the room where work was waiting for her.

"I am. For a bit longer still."

Emma nodded to herself.

"And if you're wondering how is that possible and it's so quiet…"

"You're on the porch," Emma finished for him.

"I'm on the porch," Killian confirmed, a smile in his voice. "But I'll be home before either you or Henry makes it there."

"Okay." She blinked her eyes and closed her hand once again over the phone. "I should get back to work, Killian, if I want to make it out of here on time."

"Alright, my love." It was a murmur, but it held a lot less tension than it had before. "See you at home."

She didn't quite muster up a smile that time. "See you later."

Emma removed the phone from her ear one final time, disconnecting the call and shoving the phone into her pants pocket. The up and down rollercoaster that she found herself on… She just wanted it to stop, to level off and find peace.

She turned into the room, only then realizing how she'd not mention Belle's greeting to Killian. With the distraction of _life_ going on, it wasn't surprising.

Work. Work would put her mind at ease. And for a second, she wished that they hadn't decided to put off the time-consuming and thought-provoking display for another day. If there was ever a time that losing herself in her work sounded like a healthy idea, it was this time right here.


	4. Chapter 3

"It's definitely our turn to treat next week, Ruby." Emma's words were firm and resolute as she grasped both hands over her sister-in-law's arms. "This is the third time in a row that we've gotten together and it's been here. And then, on top of that, you guys supply everything."

"Supply all of what, Emma?" Ruby's smile was bright, her eyes teasing. "Popcorn and chips, and your choice of what to wash it down with? We don't mind, really."

"You don't mind, but it would be nice to get more use out of our house." Emma let her go, returning Ruby's easy smile with one of her own. She turned around and moved to take a seat at the kitchen table as Ruby continued setting out various drinks onto the portable tray.

It wasn't a weekly thing, not really. Sometimes… sometimes it was more, sometimes it was less. But something that Emma had gained in terms of family was the comradery of the four of them, and their children, too. Killian and Liam had always been close, and that had always been easy to see. She had just been pulled into the fray, she and Henry, when they became family as well That's what it was! They had gained family.

Henry…

Emma pursed her lips at the thought of her son, almost rolling her eyes.

"And then maybe it wouldn't be so difficult to rein Henry in when it comes to joining us," she muttered, more for her own benefit than Ruby's. She hunched over the table as she attempted to pick out an individual voice.

Her statement hadn't been lost on Ruby, whose laugh filled the room and masked the other voices Emma already had to contend with.

"To be the mother of a sixteen-year-old boy," Ruby said softly. "Yes, the fact that he joins us at all in a godsend, I'd say."

Try as she might, the only voices Emma could make out were those of Connor and Brennan, but she knew her own son was out in the living room as well.

"When he comes home, he'll be seventeen," Emma murmured, the thought hitting her out of nowhere. "When he comes home from Tallahassee, he'll be starting his senior year of high school."

They were only months away from the end of another school year, which meant they were only months away from Henry heading off to be with his dad for the summer. It was as if the months were just going by in a blur. If only. There were some things that made the time fly by. There were other things that…

Emma shook her head, choosing to not let her thoughts go _there_ today. Not now. Not when it had only been a week since she'd last taken a pregnancy test. A week since she'd had the visual confirmation of another failed month.

She was thinking about it… She wasn't supposed to be thinking about it…

"I can't even imagine what that must be like," Ruby said with a sigh.

Emma was grateful for the distraction. A small smile lifted her lips as she watched the final touches Ruby put on the tray, her pretty glass lemonade pitcher sat in the center.

"And to start all over again?" Ruby asked lightly, her eyes crossing the room to connect with Emma's.

Maybe that didn't help with the hope of finding a distraction. Emma's smile faltered a bit with that. She ignored the drop of the anchor settling in her belly, and refused to acknowledge that the weight of it was what made her sink further into her seat.

"Well... hopefully." It was all that she could muster up as a response. Watching the way Ruby took hold of the tray with both hands, Emma stood up from her seat. There was a bowl of the aforementioned popcorn sitting on the other side of the counter that had to be grabbed, and that task was going to be her distraction.

She appreciated the fact that the facade passed Ruby's inspection; just the right amount of a smile allowed Ruby to return it with one of her own.

"Ready?"

In a few rooms away, the rest of their family was holed up in the living room, and a movie would soon be starting on the television.

Emma shook her head. "Lead the way. I'm right behind you."

* * *

She knew that look on his face. She was beginning to know it well. Emma opened her mouth in protest, but closed it immediately, knowing there was no point in disrupting everyone else while watching the movie.

"What is it?" Killian murmured close to her ear, the arm around her shoulder hugging her even tighter to him.

She turned towards him quickly, but looked back at the boys who were sitting on the floor across the room.

"Henry," Emma murmured back.

"What?"

Her son had been sitting with his legs spread out in front of him, his attention being split between the television screen, his phone that sat in front of him, and Connor who sat next to him. Connor… who had matched Henry's position perfectly.

"Ah!" Killian's voice was soft. "Yes? No?"

Emma watched as Henry raised one knee and then the other. The phone had been scooped up in his hand and texting had commenced.

They'd made a day of it, had been at Liam and Ruby's for well over three hours now. Henry had let Connor stick to him like glue the entire time, had entertained the toddler in ways that only, seemingly, he could do. That was for over three hours. Now…

"I guess so," Emma finally answered, trying not to sigh.

His lips brushed against her cheek, leaving a soft kiss right below her ear.

It put a smile on her face, even as she watched Henry whisper something to Connor. Something that earned a short nod from Connor as he watched Henry stand from his seat. He stayed there, though, as Henry placed a hand on the top of his brown head and gave a little ruffle.

"He's on his way," Emma noted quietly.

Killian moved just enough so that he look in the direction that Henry was coming from.

"Mm.. I think he's going to bypass you and come straight to me."

Emma turned back to the television, her eyebrow raising as she tended to agree with her husband on that one.

"Killian?"

He untangled himself from her as Henry's whispered voice called to him.

Emma glanced up at the pair, this time smirking as she watched how her son bent over the couch so that he could whisper into Killian's ear. She couldn't hear his words, but she knew exactly what the sentiment was.

She saw Killian's mouth open in response, a short _ah_ escaping, and then a quick glance her way. Then he nodded, a brief bob of his head.

"Okay, cool." He was already on the move, coming around the other side of the couch. "I'll see you guys at home later." Emma didn't even have a chance to ask a question before he'd reached to her side of the couch, placing a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Henry?"

He hadn't made it as far as he probably would have liked before she called him back.

"Yeah?" The look he gave her was wary, as if he was preparing to hear the words that would counteract those of Killian's consent.

"Who is picking you up?" Emma asked instead. He'd arrived with them and she just wanted to know who he'd been talking with.

"There'll be a few of us," Henry said, sounding as if he was fighting to keep his own sigh in. "We're going to the mall, but Violet's brother is driving." He took a step back, a step towards the nearest exit, as he looked at her hopefully.

Emma gave a quick nod. "Okay. See you at home, Henry."

"Bye, Mom." There was only a short wave for the rest of them before he turned spun around to find that exit.

"Three hours is good." The murmur was close to her ear, followed by another one of Killian's quick kisses.

It wasn't that she was having a hard time letting go, seeing Henry grow up. It wasn't…

"Three hours is good," she agreed, a smile finally crossing her face. Emma looked across the rest of the room, looked to see who was left. Three-fourths of the Jones' family were sitting on the loveseat opposite of them. Ruby sat with her feet tucked underneath her, finding herself comfortably engrossed in the movie in front of her. Liam seemed a bit more engrossed in the baby splayed across his lap. It seemed that Brennan had tired himself out after being persuaded to _not_ tumble across the room but, rather, sit and watch the movie with everyone else.

"Connor."

Emma looked in the direction of where the two-year-old had been left by Henry. His own gaze turned towards them after Killian called his name. Another easy smile from Emma.

"Come here, my boy," he told him, already sitting up and holding out his hand for him.

Connor jumped up from his seat on the floor, his hands pressing into the wood to help him make it into a standing position. His eyes, his father's eyes, were a bright blue as he clambered towards them both.

She would have made room for him, scooting over to the side, but was stopped by Killian pulling and keeping her close. Instead of sitting between them, Connor hopped onto Killian's lap, turned around, and then situated himself so that he was in view of the television once more.

"Did you have fun with Henry?" Killian asked quietly, his hand brushing the dark brown strands of hair that fell over his forehead.

Connor nodded absently.

"I know that he had a lot of fun with you today, too," Killian assured him happily. "Because you shared with him your new train car that you got for your train track."

"It's blue, Uncle Killy, and it goes faster and faster." Conner's head fell back against Killian's chest so that he could look up at him.

"Even faster than your green one, hm?"

"Faster than my green car, Uncle Killy." As if there was any comparison to be made…

It filled her heart to listen to the two of them. Mostly with a happiness at seeing the closeness between them, the closeness that was not contained only to those two, but for their entire family.

She could have sat there and ignored the movie for as long as they wanted to sit that converse. She probably would have, if…

Emma frowned, feeling out her own body and the sudden change, a familiar change. A familiar change that she was so very tired of recognizing. Her eyes fell closed, she squeezed them tight as she waited for just a moment longer to make sure. Make sure…

"I'll be back." It was a simple mutter as she stood straight up.

"Alright, love."

She didn't look back as the easy words slipped from Killian's mouth. Instead, she winced at the of pulling away from the moment she had just been a part of. She wanted to cringe at what was going through her at that exact moment, hidden and unknown by anyone else in the room. She had a small bag on the dining room table that held her essentials. She was in need of it now.

Each step felt stilted, each step hurt just a little more than the last. But… wasn't she used to this sort of pain? Yeah, she was used to that, and the stinging of tears that pricked the corners of her eyes.

* * *

It was the twenty-fourth of the month…. Saturday, the twenty-fourth...

She'd let _life_ cloud her memory. That was the only reason why it was a surprise at all. Or not really a surprise because… it was the twenty-fourth. And the twenty-fourth signified that the last pregnancy test that had come up with a negative answer was right. That was why she was in her in-laws' upstairs bathroom, handling the monthly business of being assured that she was not pregnant.

This was just the step she was currently on in a forever twenty-eight-day cycle.

Alone, her first held more than just a hint of a twisted mouth and sad eyes. Alone, the mixture of pain, hurt, and anger combined, leaving the hot tears to slide down her cheeks without caution.

She knew. She already knew!

It was anger personified that grabbed at the faucet and twisted at both the hot and cold water taps.

Seven months! They'd been trying for seven months! And she still wasn't…

What was _wrong_ with her? What was so wrong with her that her body had rejected the idea of getting pregnant for seven whole months?

It took every bit of her inner strength to not cry out in frustration as the cool water slipped over her hands. It took every bit of inner strength to not wring her hands and she covered them in soap.

She didn't do either of those. But she couldn't stop the tears from falling. She couldn't stop the ache from filling her chest as well as the despair from sinking to the pit of her stomach.

It hadn't been that way the first time. It didn't take seven months to get pregnant the first time. When she had been a lot younger…

Was that it? Had she waited too long to try to get pregnant for a second time? Was she being greedy in thinking that she could have everything in the world? That she could give _Killian_ everything in the world?

There was a part of her that wanted to sink to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees and just sit there until the pain subsided She just didn't know how long that would take. The ache was fierce. It wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. It might have only been four weeks since she was in the same position, but it wasn't even a week ago since she'd taken that last pregnancy test. The bruise of reality hadn't had time to fully heal.

Twisting to cut the water off, turning around to dry her hands…

No!

Blinking back the tears, her arms enclosed around her, hugging herself as tight as she could, if only for a moment. A moment.

The sob wasn't as silent as she would have liked, but there was no helping that. Not when her chest felt as empty as she was.

* * *

Emma dropped her bag back down on the dining room table, the leather leaving a thump as it hit the wood. She took in a small breath, holding it for a long moment before letting it out.

"God. Damn." The mutter didn't help alleviate the pain that she thought she had gotten rid of all those minutes before. It only brought a new surge of sadness to the surface. She didn't have time for the sadness to resurface. Not with everyone just a few feet away in the living room.

"You're missing the movie," Ruby called out.

The voice had Emma swivelling her head in the direction of the other room, her lips just parting to let out a small gasp. Ruby had dropped her head over the couch so that she could look see in the vicinity of where Emma stood.

Her steps, she couldn't help the stiffness of her legs as she moved back towards the group.

"Don't mind me," she offered in way of apology. She felt the strain even in her neck as she cleared her voice.

There were smiles from all around. In her absence, she saw that Ruby and Liam had made themselves a little more comfortable. Ruby laid in Liam's arms, curled into the loveseat while Brennan drooped over her, still out like a light.

Emma felt herself swallow. It was an involuntary attempt at righting the moment she was living.

"What's wrong?"

Killian held a hand out for her, the other still wrapped around Connor as he laid against his chest.

"Wait, what's wrong?" It was softer this time as he inclined off the couch, his eyes darting across her face.

She hadn't done a well enough job, had she? She hadn't made sure that her eyes weren't red-rimmed or puffy before she came out of the bathroom. Or maybe the blame wasn't hers because of course he would notice. Of course her husband would see right through her.

"Nothing's wrong," Emma whispered back, only letting her fingers slip over his as she pushed herself down on the couch. She wanted to be home. She wanted to bury herself under the covers, if only for a little while.

"Uncle Killy?"

Emma faught the urge to put space between them as Killian turned his attention to Connor's questioning face. Instead, she looked straight ahead at the television, trying very hard to concentrate on the thing she was supposed to be concentrating on.

Their voices wouldn't leave her ear. She listened to Killian's soft murmurs to his nephew, the interested and invested tone that showed he cared. She listened to Connor's sweet voice, full of curiosity and insight of a two-year-old.

Her stomach clenched, _clenched,_ in a terrible pain that almost caused her to gasp. Emma gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes on the screen in front of her.

Seven months…

She needed the thought to leave her mind. At least for now, while she was here. She didn't have time to dwell on the fact that Killian had a bond with everyone else's sons and not his own. And… it was her fault…

The churning in her gut felt even worse...

It was out of the corner of her eye that she saw Killian and Connor move, Killian lifting Connor from his lap.

"Hold on just a moment, okay?"

Killian's murmur drew her eyes up to his. He placed Connor back onto the couch, scooting him all the way back and patting his lap.

"We'll be right back, okay?" He smiled, lifting his eyebrow in wait of confirmation from his nephew.

It came way of a quick nod, his head tilting so that he could see the television from behind Killian.

"Emma?" He reached for her hand again, the smile still on his face.

She took it at once, letting him help her stand once more. The feel on her hand in his… For a second, it was enough.

"What?" she asked quietly, not quite meeting his eyes.

She saw the tilt of his head, knew that he was looking her over in the way only _he_ looked her over.

"Come with me, for a moment," Killian said, nodding his head.

There was a part of Emma that wanted to dismiss his request, already knowing what he wanted. To talk.

His hand tightened around hers as he began to lead them out of the living room without another word from either of them.

* * *

He lead her to the back door, his hand never leaving hers, but there was a single-mindedness about the way he strolled towards the private spot.

"What's wrong, Emma?" The question fell out of his mouth as he spun around to face her. It was only then that he let go of her so that he could cup her face in the palm of both hands. There was a fierceness to his blue gaze as he looked over every bit of her.

Emma sucked in her cheek and gnawed at the inside as she looked right into his eyes. It wasn't the time to get into a conversation about… any of this. It didn't matter. All it signified was another month of trying gone wrong.

"Nothing's wrong," she breathed out, feeling close to being out of sorts already. "It's nothing."

"No." His hands moved, his fingers weaving through her hair. "It's something. What happened, Emma? You've been…"

She hissed in a breath this time, waiting impatiently for the words to fall from his mouth, to hear him say that he knew she'd been crying because the redness wasn't gone from her eyes.

"It doesn't matter."

Apparently, that wasn't good enough either, taking in the look of doubt that crossed his face.

"Emma."

"What?" she bit out. But she was already close, close to crumbling under the pressure. She took in another breath, filling her lungs to capacity before she let it out. "I… started my… period."

"Emma." He came out as a sigh, his hands coming back to encase her cheeks. "Emma."

She closed her eyes at the feel of his forehead falling against hers, creating a gentle caress of skin to skin.

"It's… okay," he whispered quietly. "It's okay. Emma… we…" His lips dropped a kiss on hers, a quick kiss followed by another.

"I know." Of course she had already known she wasn't pregnant. "I know." She brought her hands up to his, encasing his with her own.

"It'll happen." There was such conviction in his voice, a sound of truthfulness and honesty. It wasn't enough though. "I promise you."

"You can't…" Emma pushed herself back away from him, feeling her sadness quickly being replaced with a surge of anger. "You can't… _promise_ that, Killian!"

He let her go, but the way he stood there and watched her told her that it was the farthest thing from what he really wanted to do.

"I _can_ promise you that, Emma." Killian shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving her. "Believe me when I say that getting you pregnant is on the top of my long-term to-do list."

It was then, seeing the lift of his lips and the sparkle in his eye, that she knew that he… he really didn't comprehend it, did he? Because if he comprehended, if he got it, then there wouldn't be room for lighthearted flicker of anger sparker hotter and bolder than ever in that moment. Her gaze narrowed on his, tamping down the fire that could have erupted from there.

"If these last seven months haven't taught you this by _now,_ Killian," Emma told him quietly, "the truth of the matter is that me getting pregnant isn't as simple as one, two, three."

His eyes blinked, his head tilted just so as it shook one more time.

"I didn't say that it has been easy," he muttered. "But it'll happen. Emma. And I _can_ promise you that," He reached for her again, his hand slipping out to grab at hers as it lay limply at her side. "You'll get pregnant." With that, he pulled her back into him, his arm wrapping around her waist and hugging her tight against him.

She… She couldn't share his optimism. There wasn't even enough of her that wanted to share his optimism. Seven months, and they were headed into their eighth…

Emma wrapped her arm around his neck, she felt the tension that refused to seep out of her. She didn't try to fight the thoughts of Connor sitting and having a rational conversation with his uncle about train tracks and cars, and seeing the complete rapt attention he gave the two-year-old. She didn't fight the thoughts Brennan dangling from just one of Killian's arms, swinging back and forth, and seeing the amazed smile on her husband's face. She tightened her arm around him, squeezing her eyes shut tight even as the emptiness settled through her.

It was an emptiness that, she knew, was not going away anytime soon.


	5. Chapter 4

The hedge maple wasn't the variety of tree that would support a simple tree swing. That was easily noticed by the lack of strong and jutting tree branches. Luckily, the area directly next to it would be a perfect fit for a swingset, and it would still get the shade of the large maple. Spring disappeared in an instant and was replaced by summer. Would they love the water? Would they insist on a swimming pool, if only just a small one? Something to wade in with those little floaties on their arms?

Killian caught his lip between his teeth as he stared out at their backyard from the edge of the porch. The weather had been kind over the last few weeks, the temperature rising well above the average for mid-May. It also caused for a sudden growth spurt of the lawn, showcasing the responsibilities that afforded a new homeowner.

The backyard was _just_ big enough for them. _Them_ , meaning their budding family. His imagination conjured up... two children. Mm… a boy and a girl, no more than three years apart. Emma had once told him that she wanted their first child to be a girl, that she wanted a daughter. Perhaps her mother's green eyes, but his darker features. A five-year-old green-eyed girl, holding onto the ropes of her swing, head down and raven-black hair spilling over her as her sandaled feet bent behind her, currently the swing coming back from a moment high in the air.

Yes, a swing set would sit perfectly directly next to the large maple tree…

"Killian."

He swung around just in time to see the door closing behind Henry as he stepped onto the porch with a quizitive look on his face.

The feeling of being caught… He knew there wasn't any shame in daydreaming of the future. He knew that there wasn't anything wrong with the longing that had overtaken his heart completely. Still, there was a bit of sheepishness about his stance as he stood there, caught up in his dream.

"I wasn't expecting you to make it home this early," Killian admitted, an eyebrow shooting up at his stepson.

Henry offered him a quick smile. "I didn't want to leave it all to you, so I made sure that I came straight home." His shoulder went up in an easy shrug. "I'm going to change into something else, something Mom won't be upset that is covered with grass stains and dirt. But I wanted to let you know that I was here before I did."

Killian nodded his head in approval. "Sounds good to me. Perhaps we'll be able to get a bit done before your mom gets home then."

"Okay." Henry was already moving, grabbing for the door.

It wasn't until after Henry had disappeared back inside that Killian took in a deep breath. He held it for just a moment, he chest puffing out and his eyes blinking in thought. No, he wouldn't think anymore. At least, no more thoughts of that swing, or of the three-year-old little girl. He wouldn't let his mind drift towards her baby brother… He said he _wouldn't_.

Killian huffed out a breath this time, letting his feet fall heavily onto each step as he made his way off of the porch. He and Henry would clear out the falling branches that lay across the lawn, perhaps organize the small shed and decide on what other tools and equipment would be nice to add to their collection. (He saw a bit of sharing with his brother for the time being.) Hm… the life of a homeowner.

Killian swiped his arm across his mouth, his eyes squinting on his immediate surroundings, their _home._ A home that would one day be even more than it was now.

* * *

"The big day is coming up," Killian reminded Henry conversationally. He bent over, reaching for more of the same fallen branches.

Perhaps they wouldn't get as much work done as he had gone in believing they would. After tossing the wood over into pile that was beginning to gather, he rubbed his work-gloved fingers together. The moisture still left in the earth was not conducive to lawn mowing. Well, another day for that…

"The big day?" Henry asked from behind him.

Killian was quick to turn around, finding the boy perched against the wooden planks of the fence that divided their property from the neighbors'. The rake in his hands was pushed closed to his chest as he looked at him.

He lifted one shoulder in an easy shrug. "The end of another school year and then you'll be off to Florida for the summer. There can't be more than about six weeks before you leave."

Both of Henry's shoulders came up in response as the grip on the rake seemed to tighten.

"Yeah, it's six weeks," he confirmed. He pushed himself off of the fence, moving slowly away.

There was something about the way he dragged the rake over a small patch of grass, catching loose twigs and grass blades between the teeth. There was something about the way that his head ducked down and the fair amount of concentration he was giving to that small patch of grass.

Killian bit back his smile. Sometimes it was quite amazing to look at the boy, his stepson. Sometimes, looking at him brought back the memories of the beginning. The three-and-a-half years that he'd been a part of his life seemed to swirl around his head in a haze. Thirteen to sixteen…. Almost seventeen… Some fairly interesting years, to say the least.

He knew Henry. He loved the fact that there had been a friendship and relationship built between the two of them that wasn't because of Emma. That fact that it was easily established. There had been more time than Killian liked to think about where Emma _hadn't_ been in his life. Not the way that he needed her to be. Those were also times that…. he understood. He got it. Emma. His wife. There had been a time where she'd needed space. And he had given her that. It hadn't come at the cost of the friendship that he'd had with Henry, though. There had never been a time where they'd slipped back, lost what they'd built as _friends first._ It had only grown, grown to anything and everything that a stepfather and stepson could be.

So, yes, he knew Henry. He knew the drop of his head, the concentration given to the ground. He knew the way he held firm onto the rake, dragging it slowly in front of him. He knew these actions meant Henry was unsettled. The question was why.

"When you come back, you'll be a senior," Killian huffed.

Henry tilted his head as he swept the rake out in front of him.

"Yeah." He looked up this time, finding Killian immediately. "I know." The hint of a smile only stuck around for a second before it disappeared. It was replaced by something thoughtful as he took a step away, going back into the job of clearing the lawn.

"Have you thought any more on the college you're hoping to be accepted to?" Killian asked conversationally, feeling out what must be on Henry's mind. "There's still a year to go, but-"

"I don't know, Killian," Henry cut in, stopping him short. "I mean, there are a lot of great schools out there with really great photography programs." He turned back around to look at him once more. "Mass Art is pretty amazing.," he admitted with a shrug.

"And right here at home," Killian added, almost smiling at the thought of Emma.

"Mom would love that," Henry muttered, turning back to his work.

This time, Killian smiled. "You mother would love that." Looking at his stepson's back, looking at the way he went back to the yard work, he knew it wasn't school that had been on his mind.

"I think SAIC is pretty amazing, too, though," Henry spoke up, lifting a shoulder.

School of the Art Institute of Chicago… Chicago. Off the top of his head, Killian estimated that distance to be between some eight hundred and nine hundred miles from home. Perhaps a bit more difficult to get used to than something right down the street…

There was a sense of pride, and perhaps even a bit of bravado, that something that Emma had once considered a passing hobby of Henry, had actually turned into something more like passion. Photography had been one of their first bonding experiences. It hadn't been _solely_ his way of getting in, a way of getting closer to the two. Henry's interest in photography was an offshoot of his own interest in drawing. A creative link that had deserved to be nurtured and deserved to grow. The product of what had bonded them had turned into this: an interest in making photography more than just a hobby, but a career. An idea that he wanted to base his entire college career around. So, perhaps he had a right to be a bit prideful, a bit boastful, a reason to puff out his chest at the thought of what a success his stepson would be one day.

"Chicago is home of the arts, yes," Killian added, knowing that he couldn't deny that fact.

"I guess we'll see who is willing to take a chance on me," Henry said with another shrug. "Like you said, there's still time to think about it."

No, the way Henry's hands gripped at the rake and dragged it against the ground didn't have to do with his future college aspirations… The end of the school year. The pending trip to Tallahassee…. But that was a constant, an annual trip that he was always happy to take…

"Does your dad have hopes of perhaps you choosing something closer to him in Florida?" Killian inquired lightly.

"There's nothing… really close to Florida," Henry said slowly, seemingly thinking on that question. He shook his head. "It'll be either midwest or northeast, I think."

Killian nodded slowly, trying to come to terms with the fact that he wasn't making headway onto what was on Henry's mind. It was the journalist in him that wanted to dig until he found out why there were subtle clues to the change in his stepson's behavior. There was something on his mind, Killian was sure of that. It was the stepfather in him that chose to not ask, to not dig.

He turned around, looking at the pile that they'd accumulated of debris that would have to be cleared out. The random leaves of another variety than their own maple tree drew his attention the the yard behind the fence. He imagined that there would be many many more gold leaves falling from that golden rain tree once the time was right, only adding to the load of yard work. Luckily, he thought with an inward sigh, the sight was enough to ignore that issue.

It was thoughts of a golden rain tree spiking above the wooden fence, just off to the side was their own maple in a gorgeous and green full bloom. He saw her again, on the swingset. This time, she was barefoot. This time, her eyes were his own, bluer than blue.

It was a sight that had his fingers flexing, the urge to capture the thought was strong. He'd have to do something about that. He would have to sit down and sketch the vision. He'd need to begin leaving a sketchpad and pencils out of the porch, for moments like these.

"Killian?"

He twisted back around at the unsure call of his name. He'd lost himself in thought, a thought that certainly had the ability to leave tinges of pinks finding their way to his cheeks. It was Henry's tone and the way he blinked at him that helped push Killian's own thoughts off to the side. Perhaps he wouldn't have to stay curious for too long, at least it seemed that way.

"What is it, Henry?" he asked, watching the way he moved to place the rake up against the fence.

"Can I ask you your opinion on something?" Henry finally got out, not quite looking him in the eye, but close enough.

"You can ask me anything," he reminded him with an easy shrug. His curiosity had a way of showing as he dipped his head to the side.

"I…" Henry looked at him this time, his eyes blinking on him. "A summer is a long time."

It was a comment that could have lead to any number of places, and Killian wasn't sure… He was sure that Henry understood the vagueness of his own statement because he took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

"Violet?"

Henry had same her name as a question, but…

Ah… Ah! It was a new relationship. Something that he knew Henry had taken to heart, to mean something, over the last few months. And now… now he would be leaving for Tallahassee. For a long summer. Ah… Ah!

"She's a lovely girl, Henry," Killian told him softly.

She wasn't his first foray into dating, Killian knew that, but perhaps she was… the first thing that felt something akin to love? Yes, maybe that was it.

"Does… does Violet have plans for the summer as well?" he asked, only when Henry hadn't seemed inclined to continue. But there would have been a reason that he'd brought her up, wouldn't there have been?

"She's staying here," Henry finally shared. "She's staying, and I'll be in Florida." It was muttered, maybe not meant entirely for anyone else's ears.

He was a kid. Henry was still only a kid, closing the gap on young adulthood, but still a kid.

"You two have gotten to really get to know each other these past few months, don't you think, Henry?" Killian asked carefully.

An eyebrow shot up, his lips pursed. There was another moment of silence from Henry, clearly his mind was twisting and turning.

"I really like Violet." The whispered admission sounded less confidential than his last statement, but reverent still.

First love and all that…

"An entire summer is a long time, Killian," Henry reminded him again. This time, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. "Do you think…"

Henry's pause had Killian's own mind running. What was his stepson worried about? Was he worried that his leaving would mean the end of his relationship? He was too young to worry about such things. He was too young to fixate on one girl, when there was a world to experience. Perhaps that was it…

"I think Violet is quite smitten with you, Henry," Killian assured him, attempting to keep his smile at a minimum. "Just as smitten as you are with her, to be honest."

It was definitely Henry's turn to go a bit pink, verging on red.

"I was just thinking that…" Henry shook his head, looking away and reminding Killian of Emma in that moment. "That maybe... it'll be different… when I get back."

Different? Killian didn't ask the question, but the tilt of his head and lick of his lip may have tipped Henry off as to the confusion he was under. To be sixteen again!

Henry clasped his hands together, his gaze slipping away once more before coming back and holding firm.

"I was thinking that maybe…" The swallow was visible, the nervousness refusing to leave him. "Maybe it'll be too much time and… Violet wouldn't…"

It was harder still to keep the smile inward.

"Henry." Killian paused, the need to be sensitive to the subject was easily detected. Henry was worried that a summer apart would eventually cause the end of their budding relationship. It was a worry that he shouldn't have had, for many reasons. "Let me assure you of this, my boy." His lips twitched as he moved to close the gap between them. "The time apart will only make her appreciate the moment you are back together." The twitch became stronger as he watched the look of wonder in Henry's eyes. He controlled the urge to smile, but cocked his head instead. "Trust me."

He liked her. He liked her a lot. That truth was what kept Killian from reminding Henry that he was only sixteen and shouldn't let the thought of lost love deter him. No, he kept that to himself because he knew. He could see it right in front of him.

Henry was slow to turn, his attention going back towards the rake that wa leaning against the fence. It was in his hands within a moment, followed by a short nod of his head.

There was a young lady who'd gotten ahold of his stepson's heart! Luckily, it was the right kind of young lady. One whom Killian was quite sure he was right about. One that wouldn't forget about her stepson as the weeks drifted away and summer came into full bloom and only a mere memory by the end of that time.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." It was only a murmur as Henry's head ducked down, the rakie swinging in his hands. There was a glance Killian's way, a quick side-glance that only hinted towards an underlying smile.

It hadn't yet been… four years. Sometimes that was quite unbelievable. Perhaps it was because it felt as if he'd had them for far longer.

"Perhaps so," Killian agreed.

This time, the smile wasn't hidden. This time, there was a confident air that came with the nod of Henry's head.

There was a need to ruffle the boy's head, to grin as he gave him a good playful knock in his shoulder, and to tell him how proud he was of him. He held back, refusing to embarrass Henry any more than he'd already been by simply asking a question or two. Instead, Killian bit down on his lip as he watched the confidence ballooned back into Henry, watched as he strode from the fence, head held high, and perhaps a thought on his mind.

Sometimes… it was enough. And wasn't that a great feeling, when _this_ was enough?

Killian's teeth sank deeper into his lip, his head shaking in disbelief of the life he had.

* * *

The yard was a quick sketch, capturing just those pieces that had stuck in his mind. Just a hint of the porch; the expanse of the lawn, the grass that needed a quick trim; the hedge maple tree, in full bloom. the towering golden rain rising from behind the wooden fence. Then there was the playset that sat there proudly next to the tree. Two swings that were connected to the slide. They'd climb up the ladder to the small deck, and make their way down the slide before running back to triumphantly take their spot at the swing.

She… She wasn't rather difficult to capture. After all, she was a mixture of her father and her mother. But she deserved more space, more time dedicated to her. That was why Killian turned the page of the sketchpad, started fresh to capture that image in his mind. The image of their daughter sitting on the swing that she had claimed as hers.

This time… this time, her eyes would be her mother's eyes, even though her head was bent down. This time, her toes were bare and peaking out as she swung back once more. But the dark hair was still his, would always be his, as it fell over her shoulders while her small hands gripped the ropes of the swing.

When it was done, when the feeling of completion fell over Killian, it left a smile on his face. One day… he might be able to show Emma, might be able to share his vision- well, _this_ incarnation- of their daughter.

For now, after another long look at the picture, he closed the sketchpad. He placed it back into his work satchel, tucking it there for safekeeping.

Three was nice. Three… could be complete. It didn't stop him from holding out for four, or five… And wasn't that his right? Hadn't Emma proved to him that he could have everything that he ever wanted in life? Yes, she had….

It was that thought that capped his hope, his dream. It was going to happen….


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Seriously, no one is reading this fic here (or on Tumblr, for that matter). This is based on number of views, not reviews, follows, or favorites. I think this will be the last chapter I upload to this site. At least until the fic is completed.**

* * *

 _She knew the moment he was close enough to the bed to push him down onto the mattress. What she hadn't expected was Killian's arms, wrapping around her waist just in time to bring her down on the bed with him._

 _He took advantage of her surprised half-gasp, half smile, and covered her mouth with his, his tongue slipping inside without a hint of apology. His hand found its way underneath her dress, slipping over the back of her leg and cupping her bottom, pressing her closer and closer into him._

 _It was all an invitation, an invite for her hand to slip across his neck and find that elusive spot at his nape, an invite to press deeper over the hardness that was already there. Each invitation was gladly taken, all fingers burying into his hair, her hips grinding into him, and her tongue slipping into his mouth._

 _She loved his moan, loved the way his other hand came to meet the first from under her dress, loved the way he gripped her so that she rocked against him at a delicious pace._

" _Bloody… hell." The groan was thick, one hand gripping even more firmly as the other came to smooth over the small of her back. "I should've gotten you naked first."_

 _Emma smiled at the idea, a quick smile before her lips fell back over his._

 _The hand on her back became an arm, pulling her even closer to him. Killian pulled his leg up, bending at the knee and pressing his foot deep into the mattress, finally dragging them both up farther into the bed._

 _They each had their own agenda, their own way to help speed up the process. Killian left his hand to roam over her thigh, the curve of her bottom, and back again as his other hand moved to the zipper of her dress. Emma had her own zipper to contend with. Curving her back, giving him as much access for his task, her fingers slipped over the button of his slacks before grabbing at the tab._

 _The sound of the teeth coming apart brought another smile to Emma's face. She closed her eyes as her hand slipped inside both pants and underwear, closing around him without any barriers._

 _Killian's groan vibrated against her lips as she pressed a kiss to his neck, content to settle there for if only for a moment._

 _And it was only a moment, a quick one at that. Killian gripped at her dress, pulling at the neck and forcing her back up into a sitting position._

 _There was a mixture of pure want with a hint of mischief and curiosity in his eyes, she saw, shuffling her shoulders to help him with her dress._

" _What?" she asked in a whisper._

 _Killian watched as the dress slipped down, hanging low on her hips and partially covering him. His eyes scanned back up, stopping briefly at each part of her exposed skin._

" _When did you stop taking the birth control?" He met her eyes, his hands wrapping around her waist and pulling himself up into a reclining position._

 _Emma tilted her head, her lips barely parting._

" _Yesterday was the last time I took it," she told him softly. "I… I knew I wanted to tell you tonight."_

 _Killian nodded, his tongue poking out to lick at his lip. Then his eyes blinked on hers._

" _Is it possible then?" It was his turn to tilt his head, his fingers slipping over her waist and tickling over her exposed stomach. "Can you get pregnant now?"_

 _Emma felt the flutters deep in her womb. It was from the want, the need, of her husband. Her own need as well…_

" _Well, there's a reason why you're supposed to take the pill every day," she reminded him softly._

 _He nodded again, the smile on his face being interrupted by the biting of his lip._

" _Emma?" It was soft, his hand moving to her cheek and leaving a caress there._

" _Yeah?"_

 _He was already pulling her to him, meeting her halfway. "I can't wait to make a baby with you."_

 _He kissed her, a simple press of lips to lips, and held for a moment. Both hands found her cheeks, keeping her close before… his mouth opened over hers, his lips slanting and caressing. Once. Twice. Again. And again. And again…_

 _There was something very emotional, some great sentiment, to the fact that he made love to her that first time. There was something very great about the way he touched her, teased her, pleasured her, watched her as he made love to her. There was something special about the way he looked at her, where his eyes settled, when…_

 _It was only when his fingers linked with hers right above her head, only when his eyes met hers and his lips only inches from hers, only when he sunk deep inside of her…_

" _I can't wait to make a baby with you, Killian."_

 _There was a darkening to his eyes, a shadow crossing over his face. His eyes closed, his forehead fell against hers, his fingers gripped even tighter._

" _I love you, Emma Jones." It came on a breath of rushed air before his mouth took hers once more._

 _Her answer came in the form of fingers gripping fingers, thigh squeezing his waist, and a short whimper escaping from under his kiss._

* * *

All Emma really wanted to do was sit on the beyond comfortable couch, hold a pillow to her chest, and maybe catch up on one of any shows she'd told herself she was going to catch up on. That wasn't very likely, though. That was a luxury that she'd take if she was home alone and not expecting every member of the house to be home at any moment.

There weren't many nights where she beat Killian home. He usually made it there in the earlier part of the afternoon, choosing to work from there instead of at the newspaper. Emma's job had a way of running late into the evening sometimes. Which meant that dinner during the week was usually left up to him and Henry instead of her.

There was something to that component of being of family. For years, it had only been Henry and herself. There had been far too many nights where she'd gone the convenient route, choosing to pick up something quick and fast for dinner. Sometimes pizza, sometimes Chinese, sometimes burgers and fries. (She absolutely refused to scrunch up her nose in regret for those choices.) Even when it had been three of them- when it had been Neal, herself, and Henry… Well, Henry had been under four. They had _all_ been so young. (Mmm… she would keep that as the plausible excuse to the lack of structure.)

This time… was different. In all of the good ways, in all of the amazing ways. Of course it was different this time.

The thought stilled the wooden spoon in her hand.. Killian had given her so many of the things that she'd thought she'd never have. A beautiful three-bedroom house, the structure of family, the complete _warmth_ of being loved by her _husband…_ The feeling coursing through her had a tinge of pain and... something else that wasn't quite describable.

Emma's eyes lifted, her gaze wandering towards the ceiling. Above her, on the second floor of their home, sat three bedrooms… She felt the sudden intake of breath enter her body, her eyes blinked over and over, and she brought her gaze back down to the sizzling pan of mixed vegetables and chicken.

She didn't want to think about it.

She wouldn't think about it.

She…

"Killian's home."

The sound of Henry's voice was followed by the sound of a drawer being opened and the clatter of flatware being scooped up. The news shouldn't have caused so much tension to build in her shoulders. Or maybe… maybe the news shouldn't have drew her attention to the amount of tension in her shoulders.

Emma turned to look at her son, seeing him shuffle across the floor on his way to gather up everything he needed to set the table.

"When is dinner going to be ready, Mom?" Henry turned towards her, his eyes meeting hers expectantly.

She almost smiled, almost rolled her eyes. "By the time you finish with everything in the dining room, and Killian makes it in, dinner will be ready."

Henry's acknowledgement came in way of a nod. With full hands, he spun around and went out the kitchen the way he'd come.

Henry…

Pushing those thoughts away weren't as simple as willing them away, was it? No, because...

She'd been successful, once. Seventeen years ago, nearly a lifetime ago (definitely a lifetime ago), she'd been successful. They'd had Henry, without so much of a worry over trying. So… was it _really_ asking too much to have that same success with Killian, to have that same success in _this_ lifetime?

Emma heard the voices from a room away, heard the greetings of Henry and Killian. There was an ache that was beginning to form right in the pit of her stomach, an ache that she knew would fester and grow if she didn't stop it now. It wasn't so easy to stop it. Not when her husband's laugh and his presence brought with it the realization of what day it had been easier to _not_ think about it when he was away, when she'd had other things to occupy her mind. There was no escaping her truth, her reality, as the day began to give way to evening. (The ache, no surprise, was growing.)

"It smells bloody fantastic in here." Killian's voice filtered through the room, a hint of teasing clear .

She knew that he knew. He was as invested as she was. The calendar. The dates. What this week signified. What one day in a twenty-eight day cycle meant compared to the one before it or after it.

Emma turned off both of the burners she'd been using to cook. Taking in a deep breath, she turned around just in time to catch Killian making his way into the kitchen.

She wondered, seeing the easiness of his smile and the light in his eyes, if it was on his mind. She wondered if he was thinking, right then and there, of the fact that she was five days away from ovulation. Was he thinking about the fact that tonight was the first night of a long week of trying to get pregnant?

Maybe it was just Emma. Maybe it was only her who felt the need to cave in her body, grip her arm over her belly tightly, and squeeze until the ache inside subsided.

Yes, just her, because the ease in which Killian walked over to her said that there was nothing for him to fear.

"Hello, love." Instead of wrapping his arm around himself, Killian caught her by the shoulders, pulling her close enough to drop a kiss on her cheek. "How are you doing?" Another kiss fell just under her ear, and there seemed to be no rush to pull himself away.

"I'm fine," Emma murmured, pressing her hand against his arm. There could have been a more genuine tone to her voice, something that wouldn't give away the thoughts and pain that was coursing through her. "How about you? How was your day?" That was better, wasn't it? It was softer, smiling. That was exactly what she needed to present to her husband, the facade of being _fine,_ because a facade was better than the truth.

"Long." Killian smiled against her cheek before kissing her again. "Happy to be home."

 _Home._

The need to twist herself up into a tight ball overcame her again, but she only allowed herself to pull away from him, one shoulder inching from his grasp, then the other.

"Dinner's just about ready," she announced, looking back at the stove and their dinner. She was doing too much, giving too much…

"I could tell." Killian's murmur was followed by gentle hands finding her waist, his chin settling on her shoulder.

The intimate gesture was commonplace. Emma knew deep down that it had nothing to do with the date. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was five days from ovulation. It had nothing to do with the fact that five months of tracking her cycle showed that she was biologically inclined to get pregnant today and at any time during the six days that followed. Emma _knew_ that. She knew that.

"Emma."

She didn't like what she heard in his voice, a flutter of worry. As Killian's hands disappeared from her waist, Emma turned swiftly back around to face him.

"What?" The simple and open-ended question was the first thing to slip out of her mouth. She didn't like the way he watched her though. She didn't like the way he was looking beyond the surface.

She knew that he knew her, inside and out. But she knew him just as well…So she knew what was on the tip of his tongue, knew what was about to come out of his mouth when he opened it _just_ to close it again.

She was grateful. Grateful enough to lift her lips up to his, placing a small kiss there.

Warm. Firm. Killian placed his hand on her hip this time, returning her kiss with a peck of his own. A peck that had him pulling her even closer than before.

At another time, if it wasn't…

Thoughts of the night to come entered her mind. Thoughts of day one of seven-day stretch of trying to get pregnant… It hadn't happened that first month. That was okay, right? There hadn't been much difference between trying to get pregnant and the sex life of a six-month newlywed couple. Two months? Well, that was okay, too. It wasn't until month three that they'd began tracking ovulation dates, finding the most opportune times for baby-making. It wasn't until month three that _this_ position could possibly work better than _that_ position. And wasn't _this_ position…. _ah_ … really, really good for things other than baby making anyway?

Seven months into trying, tracking ovulation dates and elevating her pelvis for forty-five minutes to ensure gravity _afterwards_ … And today was day one, once more, of a seven-day trial and error job of trying to get pregnant.

It was… tiring. Not physically draining, but mentally and emotionally draining. The more she let herself think on the fact that it had been _seven months_ , the more those thoughts seemed to weigh her down, pulling her deeper and deeper into pain.

"Don't," Killian whispered against her lips, his fingers tightening on her hip.

It was only then that she noticed the rigidity of her posture, her shoulders stiffening and her back straightening. She hadn't noticed, but he had. He had seen something in her that she hadn't seen herself.

Emma nodded her head, her eyes blinking, trying to let the his request help in soothing her anxious body.

"Okay," she whispered back. It was more than a concession. Emma wanted to heed to his soft demand, so she did. "Okay."

It was too early to dwell on the idea. Except… it wasn't too early. The day was here, wasn't it?

Emma rolled her shoulders, her eyes turning up on Killian just in time to see the visible swallow he'd taken.

"I'm here at your service,." He smiled this time, a corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "What do you need help with for dinner?"

Emma shook her head, taking a step back and finally separating herself from him. "Nothing. You just made it through the door. Go get yourself settled. Henry's helping out right now anyway."

Killian was slow to nod. "Okay." The space between them disappeared again when he came to kiss her cheek once more.

There was a small part of her that was happy that she'd convinced him enough that she was fine. There was another part of her that wished it was really true. That was probably the part that held onto his arm, keeping him and his kiss there for a little longer than what was called for.

"I'll be right back," Killian murmured, finally slipping away from her.

Emma nodded her head. It was her only acknowledgement as she watched him turn, moving across the kitchen floor and out of the room.

If she could have anything in the entire world right now, it would be… Well, if she could have _anything…_ Emma's hand fell over her stomach at the thought of _that._ No, that wasn't so easily done, apparently. If she could have anything else in the world, it would be peace of mind. Because if there was one thing she definitely did not have, it was peace of mind.

* * *

Killian liked to include her in having the ability, but Emma left the creativity up to the men in her life… There was something about their eye, something about what they were both able to draw out in way of photography and drawing, respectively. It hadn't been a passing phase in her son's life. Not at all. And who had nurtured Henry's drawing to photography? It had been Killian, first, foremost, and always.

Laying on the couch, not as tightly compact as she had once hoped for early in that day, but wrapped up nicely in a light blanket, Emma watched the two. It was a common stance, watching them both hunched over a photograph or a drawing.

"The skyline. You captured the skyline so well." Killian turned his attention away from the laptop to look at Henry.

"We went on the west side of the river, on Storrow Drive." Henry lifted his shoulder in a shrug. "They came out really well, huh?"

"Amazing," Killian agreed with a shake of his head. "What time did you guys go?" He looked away from the screen to look at Henry. "It must have been mid-afternoon."

Henry nodded. "It was right after school. Around three or so."

"Amazing."

It brought a smile to Emma's face from across the room.

"Emma, love?" This time, Killian turned his attention towards her, swinging around to face her.

Emma sat up just a bit as she looked at him with curiosity.

"Do you know what university Henry is leaning towards?" he asked, a smile on his face. It was a smile of pure pride.

"It's too early," Henry murmured, his head shaking as his finger guided the mouse to switch photos on the screen.

Killian's hand came down on Henry's shoulder, patting firmly.

"Our boy is looking toward the School of the Art Institute of Chicago." This time, there was a grin on his face as he clapped a hand over Henry's shoulder blade.

No, she hadn't known that…

"Illinois?" Emma asked, letting the idea settle in her mind. Her heart. It was still more than a year away. Not much more than a year, but still…

"I don't know, Mom." Henry shrugged, not bothering to turn around. "Maybe. There's a few different schools."

And none of them were closer than Chicago, Illinois? It was a question right on the tip of her tongue, but of course, she didn't ask. When he came back from Tallahassee at the end of the summer, he would be seventeen. He was growing up.

"We'll have to start making plans for college tours when you come back," Killian said with a firm nod.

That did it. Henry turned around to face the both of them.

It brought another smile to her face. Not so much the idea of doing a college tour and letting go of her son. It was connected to something much bigger than that.

"A college tour?"

Killian shrugged easily. "We're reaching that point in time." He raised an eyebrow. ""Don't you think?"

Henry was slow to nod, his eyes bouncing from Killian to her.

"Yeah, sounds cool." There was a small smile that lifted his lips before he turned back to the laptop.

Killian's own smile brightened as he moved towards the couch, his steps light as he made his way over to her.

"We're going to Chicago?" Emma asked softly, sitting up straighter and pulling the blanket tighter around her.

"We're going to Chicago," Killian agreed, falling down on the couch beside her.

"Anywhere else that you're interested in, Henry?" Emma asked, moving into the open and waiting arm of her husband.

"Don't worry, Mom." There was a hint of teasing in his voice as he swiveled his head to look at her. "I'm sure I won't end up on the other side of the country. If not the northeast, no farther than the midwest." Another shrug. "I'm sure no farther than Chicago."

 _Chicago._ She had a feeling that he would end up in Chicago. Taking in the eyes, taking in the stance… He wanted the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

It should have been enough. It really should have been. This moment, right here… She loved these moments. Loved her family, their family. So… why did the thought of where they'd be in their journey of growing their family entered her mind? Why did she instinctively need to know if she'd be pregnant? Or when Henry left for college, would she be holding his baby sister or brother in her arms?

The thought left Emma's mouth dry, left her to swallow down whatever it was that was trying to close her throat.

The thought brought up ideas of what she had been avoiding that day, thoughts of a night that was approaching quickly.

Emma dragged the blanket over her more tightly. She felt Killian's arm make its own adjustment, hugging her shoulders and keeping her close.

For a second, the thought of it being true, the thought of _maybe this time they could be successful,_ entered her mind. Just for a second. Only a second… If she could have held on to that thought- she wanted to hold on to that thought- then maybe the hurt would have stopped. Instead, it began to grow.

Hope seemed to be a hard thing to grasp onto at this point in her life.


	7. Chapter 6

_Killian ran his finger along the instructions on the box. "It says that it takes two minutes." He looked up at Emma from his seat on the tub, catching her reflection in the mirror. "I can't believe you're brushing your teeth right now."_

 _Emma rolled her eyes up, leaning further into the sink and continued to brush her teeth._

 _"Does it take the full two minutes, or can you cheat and tell even sooner than that?" His question had him grinning, his knee jumping up and down as he tried very hard to contain his excitement._

 _Emma's eyes went wide in the mirror, the toothbrush stopping mid-brush once more. Leaning over the sink, she spit out a mouthful of toothpaste._

 _"It takes two whole minutes, Killian," she finally assured him. "Two whole minutes."_

 _His attention fell back onto the pregnancy test in his hand, his finger tapping on the box._

 _"This is the one with the plus and minus, huh?" he murmured softly._

 _"That's what it says right there on the front of the box," Emma teased._

 _Killian looked at her once more, finding the toothbrush once again scrubbing at her teeth._

 _"Yeah, that's what it says," he teased back. He turned the box around, looking at the front of the box and seeing, very clearly, the examples of the plus and the minus._

 _"Is this not the kind you're used to using?" Emma asked through another mouthful of toothpaste._

 _"Ha ha." His knee swung back and forth at that joke. A joke, because…_

 _"I can't believe that you, of all people…" She spit out the toothpaste once more and turned around to face him. "Have never had a pregnancy scare in your life."_

 _Killian tapped the box against his knee, his smile now a smirk._

 _"I could take offense to that, love, but I'm going to choose not to," he murmured. "My conquests before you, Emma," he announced as he stood up, "may have… varied…"_

 _Her eyelashes fluttered as she spun around towards the sink, quickly moving to rinse out her mouth._

 _"But I was always, always, careful," he finished._

 _Head bent over the sink, Emma nodded absently._

 _It was that sight of Emma Jones, bent over their bathroom sink and her perfect bottom right in front of him… Killian bit down on his lip, his eyes taking in her perfect frame for a moment longer. It was the only thing that could have possibly distracted him from the matter at hand._

 _"I'm ready." Emma swung back around, the water already cut off. There was a slow smile that crossed her face._

 _"Give me a minute and I can be, too." The space between them was far too wide, he decided, moving towards her._

 _"Ready to take the pregnancy test," Emma clarified, smile still affixed to her face._

 _Right. The box was still dangling from his hand, he noticed. Making his way to reach her, he offered it to her._

 _Holding the pregnancy test in one hand, Emma placed her other on his arm, running down the length of it._

 _"But not with you in here, babe," she said softly with a twinkle in her eye._

 _She had him at babe. He absolutely adored the pet name she'd settled on, and loved the times when it fell from her lips so easily._

 _"Okay." His mouth dropped over hers, placing a quick kiss there. "I'll wait outside."_

 _Emma's hand tightened over his arm just as he began to move, stopping him immediately._

 _"Killian?" It was soft as her eyes locked on his._

 _"My hopes are not up, Emma," he assured her, each word slow and careful. "I'm just excited about the process. I'm excited knowing that we are in the midst of trying."_

 _Her smile matched the softness of her eyes. "Good."_

 _"Anyway." Killian tilted his head, his own gaze narrowing and pinpointed on pieces of her face. "If you're pregnant, I think that would call for a morning of celebration. And if you're not pregnant?" His hand found her waist, his eyes following the track his fingers made across her body. "Well, that would be cause for another try at getting this thing just right."_

 _Emma's lips fell apart, her eyes blinking up at him. "You're insatiable. Did you know that?"_

 _"It kind of works in this predicament, don't you agree?" Killian squinted his eyes on her, lowering his mouth to her once more and kissing her softly._

 _"I'm supposed to take this test," Emma reminded him, her smile pressing against his._

 _Killian let his hand slip down until he could grab a handful of her bottom._

 _"I know."_

 _It was probably the pained look on his face that made Emma laugh._

 _"Okay, take the test," he murmured, leaving her with a sound pat before he moved his hand for good._

 _"I'll come out once I'm done, and then we can wait the last minute or so together," Emma told him._

 _Killian nodded. "Can't wait."_

 _Bringing the box up to eye-level, Emma turned around again, making her way back in front of the sink._

 _Killian's feet were slow to move, walking backwards towards the door. She wanted her privacy. To take the first pregnancy test. Because they were actively trying to conceive…_

 _It was everything that he'd always wanted This. Emma. Henry. Marriage. The house. The home. Babies. Their own family. So… excuse the tug that made him want to be a part of every damn detail of it. He was living his dream._

 _"A few minutes." She was a tease..._

 _"A few minutes," Killian echoed with a nod. "And right outside."_

 _"Okay." An absolute tease…_

 _"Okay."_

* * *

Killian crossed one ankle over the other and his fingers paused over the keyboard of his laptop. If he could finish a good portion of the article that night, it was a great possibility that he could skip going into the office for the majority of the next day. The thought put a smirk on his face. If he could shorten his actual work day, it could leave him open to take care of other business.

The governor's newly unveiled budget proposal had some very interesting plot points to it. The numbers and the reasons behind them had Killian's mind crunching the numbers in his head as the sound bite played from the recorder beside him. Massachusetts had been home for many years. He wasn't new to the constant ups and downs of the political trends; he was more or less interested in the stability of the place that he called home with his family. Following the trends and data that he'd been too privy to because of his line of work, he knew that he could be a lot more happier by what he was seeing.

The sound of the shower shutting off grabbed his attention from the article and his own thoughts on their political leaders. Fingers falling rapidly over the keyboard, Killian only took a second to look up towards the still-closed bathroom door. Eventually, Emma would be emerging from the other room, ending her nightly shower.

He glanced at the clock on the laptop. It was just a little after ten, causing him to wince at the idea of continuing to work. Taking in a deep sigh, his fingers paused again. Perhaps… he smiled. Perhaps he would leave it up to Emma to decide whether she could deal with the constant tapping away of a keyboard and the constant glow of the computer screen.

He picked up the recorder from beside him, quickly stopping the play. He tossed it over to the nightstand, listening to it hit the wood with a thud before turning his attention back to the article at hand.

Pure concentration lead his fingers to click away at the keyboard, his eyes steady on the article. The more he was able to get done, the less he'd be required to do tomorrow…

It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before the bathroom door opened, bringing with it the cocktail of scent that was all Emma.

Killian looked up towards the door just in time to see her flick off the light. He controlled the need to lick his lips, even if she wouldn't have seen him anyway.

She stood there in the doorway, blonde hair left only slightly damp and falling over one shoulder, small bare feet sticking out from under the red and black-checkered flannel pajama bottoms. A face scrubbed clean of even a stitch of make-up, she looked absolutely gorgeous. (He wondered if he told her enough, that he let her know.)

Killian swallowed, watching the tilt of her head straighten as she began to make her way over to the bed, her gaze fixated on that spot that was hers. The wince he'd made at the lateness of the night had nothing on the grip of lust that overcame him as he looked at his wife. His hand grabbed at the screen, bringing it down and shutting the laptop. It was the next thing to find its way onto the nightstand as he leaned over to sit it down.

The bed absorbed Emma's weight easily as she slipped under the covers.

Killian was quick to turn back and look at her, his smile basically a grin as he watched her wiggle into a comfortable position.

"I thought you had an article to work on," Emma murmured, looking up at him.

"I did," Killian agreed with a single nod of his head. He turned fully towards her, sinking down in the bed beside her. "And now I'm done for the night."

Emma lifted her eyebrows in question. "Is that all my fault? You were pretty consumed before I got into the shower."

"Fault?" Killian let his eyes fall over the length of her body, her frame outlined from underneath the sheets. "No. I appreciate the distraction, I assure you."

Her answer was a smirk, followed by pulling the sheets over her shoulders and flattening her back into the mattress.

Was it an open invitation? He wanted to take it as an open invitation. An invitation to lean over her, placing a firm hand on either side of her, trapping her body underneath his. It would only be the beginning of perhaps…

Killian licked his lip as he moved, his eyes trained on the intrigued green gaze before him. Sucking hard on his lip this time, his hand fell over to the other side of her. The sheets slipped this way and that, his body turning into her until he found himself in the position he'd wanted.

"You look rather adorable tonight," he murmured softly, his mouth already making its way to kiss the spot just below her ear.

"Must be the flannel," Emma mused quietly. Her fingers came up to rest on his cheek.

"That was my first thought, too," Killian muttered into her skin, staying close.

He liked her light laugh. He liked, even more, the way her legs slipped one leg over the other, her knees slightly raising between his own. Maybe it was her scent that really intoxicated him. A mixture that was personally hers as it invaded his senses. Kissing her neck, letting his lips run across her skin, there was nothing more that he wanted than to feel her fingernails running over his back. Or maybe the feel of her thighs hugging at his hips.

He held in the groan that threatened to escape his throat as she slipped one leg out from the confines of his. Progress…

Killian didn't have a problem supporting his weight all in arms. It was the need to have more contact than a simple brush of skin here and there that brought his body down over hers.

"You're not hot?" He lifted his head so that he could look at her. "You look absolutely adorable, but you must be hot."

"Actually," her hand found its way to his cheek, the pressure applied there as it wound around his neck was firm, "I'm not." Her eyes met his with a twinkle.

He almost bit his lip, but chose for a well placed joining of his body to hers. Sinking deeper against her, his knee prying her legs even farther apart, he smiled as he watched her eyes close.

"Really?" Killian asked curiously. "Because I'm hot. Getting hotter and hotter."

"Hotter or..." Emma opened her eyes, looking right up at him. Her arms finally found their way to his shoulders, slipping over until she was gripping at his back.

His mouth fell over hers, his lips claiming hers in a kiss.

Her body was already heading in the direction he needed it to go, raising a knee until her foot slipped around his leg. Positioning himself between the space she'd created, he let her pull him even closer to her.

It built inside him quickly, the need, the desire. Emma's mouth was warm and inviting. The skin just underneath her pajama top was still cool from the shower, he realized, letting his fingers slide up curve of her waist and up her ribcage. Light caresses, soft kisses. It was enough until it wasn't enough. It was enough until the need to rock his body, to gently rock his middle against that perfect connection to her middle.

Killian's fingertips ran down the length of her side before slipping over the smoothness of her stomach. He felt the flutter, the small movement that brought her back arching off of the bed and closer into his hand.

Her own hands hadn't made it much further than his back. There was a strong need, a craving, to feel her hands running over his body. Killian's mouth fell from hers, dropping down to her chin before kissing her chest over the flannel pajamas. The feel of her skin underneath his fingertips had him close to moaning.

His hand flattened against her stomach, caressing from top to belly-button. One day… The fact that tonight was last night of her fertile period had risen slowly to his mind.

"I can't wait to make a baby with you." It was a whispered confession as his lips traveled over the mound of her breast.

He noticed the visible but silent intake of breath, her chest rising just above him. But her flannel-covered stomach, just a peek of her belly button, drew his lips there. Covered… His teeth sunk into the material, his toes pressing into the mattress as he raised the shirt higher and higher.

"Emma." He murmured her name against the skin of her stomach, his fingers doing the job of continuing to move the fabric up and out of the way.

The hands on his back stilled, one foot crossed over the other as she laid there unmoving. Unmoving and no longer encouraging the idea that she would soothe the ache building inside him.

"Emma?" It was a question now, the sheer need for the feel of her skin to cause the friction between them.

"I…" This time, there was a sigh, a wary-sounding sigh, that had her tilting her head from one side to the other. "It doesn't matter." Her arms fell down to her sides, her body going completely limp. "Last chance, right?"

Killian lifted his head, his gaze taking in the posture and the blank eyes that made contact with some spot on the bed.

"Last chance," he whispered. It hadn't been the first thing on his mind, but…

"Listen… Killian." Still, she didn't look at him. Her eyes turned up towards the ceiling, her leg uncrossed from the other one from beneath him. "I really don't feel up to this tonight, okay? So…" She took in a small breath and released it. "So can we just get this over and done with?"

If the look on his face spoke of anything, it was the quiet disbelief. The change in posture was one thing, something that was very unlike Emma. But that paled in comparison to the words she'd spoken.

"Over… and done with?" Killian blinked his eyes as he slowly moved to sit up on his knees. It was more than just disbelief. There was a moment of pure confusion as he watched her. The question on his lips remained unspoken, but… he couldn't help but wonder if it was the last chance baby-making session or lovemaking in general that she was rejecting all of a sudden.

"Seriously, Killian." It came out on a weary sigh, her face turning into the pillow. "If you want… to try to do this, if you're going to try to get me pregnant, then…" She shook her head, her face turning even more into her pillow. "Then let's just get it over with."

It was difficult to define the feelings coursing through him. The lust was still there. His wife was underneath him, and it had only been seconds ago that he'd been making progress towards making love to her. Confusion mixed with that lust. Confusion towards the sudden change in attitude from Emma, because hadn't she been primed and ready, too? His fingers had been on route in finding out when she'd said… Hurt joined the list of feelings. Perhaps it shouldn't have, but there it was, attempting to override everything else. Get this over and done with…

Killian felt the tug of the frown pulling his mouth down. She hadn't seen it, had not looked at him because she chose to hide a part of herself in that pillow. Still, he produced a smile, refusing to give into that cocktail of lust, confusion, and hurt. What was it, exactly, had caused the shift? A need for clarity lead.

"For a second there… I thought-"

"Last chance, Killian," she reminded him, her head swiveling back so that she could finally look at him. "So…" Her smile may have been just as forced as his. "If you want to try to make a baby tonight… please let's just get this over with."

If she'd reached for him… If she'd kissed him, softly perhaps… If she'd opened her legs or slid her foot tantalizingly over his leg…

She hadn't.

The secondary reason had now switched places with the primary reason. Switched? Hell, the secondary focus had decimated the primary focus, leaving nothing in its wake but the idea of making a baby. idea or job? Was it a job now? Seemed like a job.

What was the point? Killian's head gave an involuntary shake, the need to climb one knee over her legs and then the other invaded his mind. The thought of slipping back to his side of the bed and leaving Emma in peace while his mind was left to wander aimlessly over what the hell had happened was almost too strong to ignore.

The new primary reason was there and wasn't going anywhere. Last chance, she'd noted…

"Emma?" It came out on a little laugh. Not quite nervous. Perhaps it was his unconscious trying to lighten the mood once more. His fingers fell over her calf, holding firmly and slipping down to her ankle..

"What?" There was a stiffness not only in her question, but in her body as well. That was the response from her words and her body: stiffness.

Instead of reaching for him, instead of encouraging him past the words of let's get this over with, Emma held her breath until he moved. What did that mean? Killian supposed he already knew what that meant. How many times, how many ways, could she share her disinterest with him?

Sitting up on his knees and falling forward, a hand planting firmly next to her pillow, the other grabbing at the waistband of her pajama bottoms. The cocktail of feelings combined in a way that left him willing to push everything out of the way, leaving nothing much in its wake.

The mingled sighs had a different feel to them…

Well, it wasn't _exactly_ what he'd envisioned as he'd watched her walk through the bathroom door…

* * *

He moved silently through the house, slipping down the stairs with only the slightest of creaks, walked across the wood floor of the living room, making his way through the kitchen and stopping only to grab a bottle of beer out of the fridge. He made his way back towards the dining room, drink in hand, and finally made it to the side door. It opened quietly, the waft of night air encompassing everything that an early June night was supposed to be.

Killian took in a deep breath as he stepped out onto the porch. This time, he let the door go, the bang sounding louder in the quiet of the night. And that sounded… good. It sounded right, to lose the conscious need to be careful and considerate.

He took a seat on the cool step, not bothering to grab one of the chairs that sat on the opposite side of the porch. The cap of his beer twisted off in his hands, finding a spot to rest right next to him. The bottle was slowly lifted to his lips, the crisp coldness the only thing that he recognized or internalized. Slipping it back down, holding firmly onto the neck for just a second, it was the next thing to be sat down on the porch, slightly forgotten.

His lips lifted just a bit as his thoughts bounced from one place to the next. No matter how much he thought about it, no matter how many ways he tried to spin it… This wasn't them. It wasn't.

Killian lifted his hand to his mouth, swiping over it and leaving the sigh inside.

 _Just get this over and done with._

 _Just get this over and done with._

It wasn't the same as a batting hand slipping back to brush him away in the early morning. It wasn't the reluctant sigh of "Really?" as she pushed the curve of her perfect ass into the burgeoning proof of his need for her.. "Really quick, I promise." It wasn't the same moan that he could draw from her even in the earliest of mornings when just five minutes of her was enough to sate him… for a while, at least. It wasn't the same grip of sheets, the same hiss, the same leg thrown over his and locking tight. No, it wasn't the same at all.

 _Just get this over and done with._

Emma.

On a night where he'd been gripped by need for his wife, it turned into something else. It turned into a session of baby-making. A session of baby-making that was all up to him. All up to him.

He had held onto her scent as it invaded him. It had been the only thing to hold onto. Everything else… He had closed his eyes, had imagined her fingers gripping at his back, had imagined what her cry would have sounded like in his ear as she… laid there, ready for him to get it all over and done with…. Then he wouldn't have found himself sitting out here on the porch. He wouldn't be focusing on the mess- it was becoming a mess- that a significant part of his marriage was sitting on.

Killian's hand came to swipe the beer back into his grasp, bringing it up to his mouth and guzzling down at least half the contents of the bottle.

If he hadn't imagined it, then he would have been faced with the realization that there had been no interest, no excitement, no passion from his wife. If he hadn't imagined it, then he would have been forced into reality, and being forced into reality would have meant an even sooner end to their attempt. Perhaps that wouldn't have been a terrible thing. Perhaps…

It was supposed to be idyllic, this life. Killian's eyes scanned the backyard, looked up at the starry night sky, took note of the houses and trees that were visible. Idyllic, right? Beautiful house that sat in a wonderful neighborhood. A beautiful wife and great stepson, living their lives out with a backdrop that looked perfect on the outside as it did on the inside. And it was perfect, it had been, until... until this.

What was this? This was the stress and the strain on trying to grow that perfect little family.

It was so easy to tiptoe around the issue. It was so easy, for him, to look at her and say the words that should have eased the doubt. But, apparently, it wasn't as easy as he thought. The days where Emma felt deflated about not being pregnant were growing. They were becoming more frequent. That frequency was causing a shadow to loom over them. If the argument over the last pregnancy test hadn't told him that, if the vocal doubts hadn't told him that, then what happened tonight had.

Damn it all to hell! All of it!

This wasn't them!

And what had Killian done? In every scenario, what had he done?

The rim of the bottle slipped across his lips as he thought about it all, trying to put a perspective on life.

He'd backed away. He'd let her have her peace, say the words or not say the words. Then he'd pushed forward. He'd apologized for the argument, taking responsibility for his part in being saddened by the fact that she hadn't been pregnant. He'd held her and told her that they would keep trying when she was broken at Liam and Ruby's house. Then, tonight, when she'd laid there submissively and basically told him to make a baby all on his own… he'd done just that.

 _Bloody hell!_

Killian's head dropped back, the beer went down in gulp.

His own indecisiveness that night had tempted him with not going through with it at all. It had been a battle of thoughts swirling around his head. Was he supposed to give up in defeat? It would have been defeat, no doubt. It would have meant slipping off onto his side of the bed with a frown of pure confusion and presenting her back to her. To her? No. They would be back to back, he was sure. But he had hadn't given up in defeat. Instead, he had pushed through- no longer because of the strong and overpowering desire he'd had for her. Instead, it was now all about making a baby. A baby that they both wanted. That much was true. Just… not that way. It had never been that way. He didn't like that way.

What was happening to them?

His head fell forward, his chin hitting his chest and his eyes closed.

"Bloody hell."

It wasn't supposed to be like this.


	8. Chapter 7

_She didn't take the time to call or text him that she was pulling into the driveway. Emma bit down on her lip, her hand clamping down on the handle and pushing the door out of her way. Her legs were already swinging off to the side, her feet quickly hitting the pavement of the driveway. She palmed the keys, taking nothing else with her._

 _Did she look desperate? Emma attempted to make each shaky step look as normal as possible, just in case she was noticed by a stray neighbor. Please, no neighbors! No polite chitchat to stop her from making it into the house, making it to her husband._

 _He should have been waiting on her. He should have…_

 _The door flew open and Killian's gaze took all of her in. It took everything she had left to not go running, the look of desire proudly covering his face. No shame..._

" _You got here fast."_

 _Emma lifted her shoulder in a shrug, refusing to feel sheepish over the fact that she'd made it home in decent time._

" _Light traffic," she murmured._

 _He was already pulling her into the house and into his arm, thank God. Her layer of propriety was almost broken as it was. The door slammed shut by the force of his other hand before it, too, closed around her._

 _She attempted to steady her already-uneven breathing as she gave into the tingling he was already causing. She felt giddy, excited, and maybe just a little mischievous. Emma was almost willing to give into the idea that Killian was a bad influence on her, but… she couldn't really say that. Even if it had been his idea for her to come home during her lunch hour, it was an idea that she had to agree with. To hell with it! Why even attempt having control? She wanted to give in to every feeling, every desire, that was coursing through her._

 _Pinned to the door, Killian's hands slipping across her body and his teeth nipping at her ear, she saw his suitcase out the corner of her eye. He was all packed and ready to go to Springfield. A trip that coincided just perfectly with her ovulating. There wasn't much that either one of them could do about that. Except, maybe, what they were doing now…_

" _Why are you dressed?" Emma asked breathlessly. She was already breathless as a frown overtook her features,_

" _I wanted you to undress me," he muttered, his lips brushing against her cheek as he grinned._

 _Hm… nothing wrong with that. Emma bit down on her lip as her hands moved towards his pants. If the excitement and thrill hadn't turned her on enough already, the feel of him hard and ready against the length of her hand did._

 _Killian pressed into her, his hips falling in line with her own and leaving little space while being trapped between him and the door. His hands continued on a deliberate journey that began at her hips and only continued south from there._

 _It wasn't only the excitement at the thought of why she was home in the middle of her workday. It was the thought of the outcome. It was the thought of being successful that swirled around in her mind as she gripped at the front of his pants._

 _Emma sighed to herself. The bliss that consumed her was not due only to Killian's body slipping up and down her own. At the end of the whole process, when all the trying would turn into a success… there was going to be something great to show for it. There would be a baby. There would be a baby that was… just theirs. She was almost more than giddy at that thought, and the thought of..._

" _I want a girl, Killian," Emma breathed out, letting her head fall back. A little girl that was all theirs._

" _Mm, I'm trying, love." Killian took advantage of the exposed neck just like she knew he would, his mouth opening over her skin._

 _A smile crept onto Emma's face. "I wonder if your genes are as strong as Liam's. Connor and Brennan look so much like him." At the feel of Killian's arm closing around the back of her legs, Emma prepared herself for the knowing lift that would be coming._

" _Are you thinking of my brother while I'm attempting to get you all hot and bothered and pregnant?" Killian murmured quietly. Hefting her up higher, his hand caught her thigh as she wrapped her legs around him._

 _This time, she offered her smile to him._

" _I'm thinking only of you, babe," Emma assured him softly, her hair slipping over them both as she kissed him, creating a curtain they both were hidden under._

 _Killian's hold on her tightened. A growl roared deep in his throat as he turned them around._

 _He made it up a total of three stairs before he paused._

" _If this child is a girl, I hope she is made in the image of you, Emma," Killian whispered, his eyes searching out her face._

 _Emma felt herself softening at the thought, felt the dipping of her eyelids. She felt the dipping of Killian's body and her own as he began lowering them both to the stairs._

" _And you want to conceive her on the staircase of our home?" she asked lightly, feeling his fingers wrapping around her thigh._

" _If not here…" He moved even closer against her, his head finding the crook of her neck and his bottom lip running over the skin there. "Then in our bed once we're done." This time, his mouth opened over her shoulder and his hand rose higher and higher on her inner thigh._

 _It was then that she became lost by the feel of his touch. Emma parted her lips just as her eyes fell close._

" _Oh…. sounds like a plan then."_

* * *

"I just wonder if you knew what you were getting yourself into when you moved in."

Emma nearly laughed as she watched her neighbor and new friend drop her filled laundry basket onto the couch.

"Seriously, Emma." It was a warning, a fairly wary one, but teasing as well. "Summer block parties, formed committees wanting to know what you'd like to contribute, and monetary contributions are never frowned upon," she assured her with an easy smile.

Emma rolled her eyes, settling herself even more comfortably on the other end of the couch.

"It doesn't stop there," Lily continued you. "But you'll see. You've moved into a very… involved community, Emma."

This time, it brought a small smile to her face.

"Nice community," she murmured quietly. "Well, 'nice' would have been one of the draws to the neighborhood, not a deterrent."

A neighborhood filled with families of varying ages, and sizes, and shapes. A neighborhood full of children running around. Children of all ages, from preschoolers all the way to high schoolers. And, yes, there was that continuity, that closeness, that had been mentioned by the realtor. Although she wouldn't have considered herself big on openness, the truth of the matter was that she wasn't as _closed off_ as she had once been. Which was why it had been so great to have made a true friend in her next-door neighbor. Something that she had not counted on, but had been grateful for nevertheless.

Lily and her husband reminded Emma of her own personal situation. Well, maybe opposite of her own. Lily didn't have any children of her own, but was the stepmother to her husband's children. They had an arrangement very much like the one she and Neal had for Henry. The two children, ages nine and eleven, spent their summers in Massachusetts with their dad and stepmom, and the rest of the year they were with their mother and stepfather in another part of the country. So as Henry was getting ready to depart, Lily was readying herself for a summer stay of her stepson and stepdaughter.

"Well, as long as you know what you're getting yourself into," Lily commented, sharing a smile from across the laundry basket. Her hands dug deep inside, pulling out a bath towel and went to folding.

Emma wanted to ask, had almost asked, but asking meant follow-up questions. Questions that would have been geared towards her. And… She ignored the pit in her stomach, letting the pain come and… She wanted it to come and go, but the pain decided to linger, to fester. That fact made it hard to ignore.

"We knew," she assured her friend, controlling the need to squirm as the ache traveled long and slow to her lower back.

"So…" Lily tilted her head, her eyebrows knitting together even as she placed the folded towel down onto the table in front of them. "Are you newlyweds planning on having more children? Was that one of the draws to this place?"

Emma's lips turned up involuntarily. Just because she had controlled the curiosity of asking, it didn't stop Lily from being able to steer the conversation that way all on her own.

The fact that they were actively trying to get pregnant wasn't known by everyone. Maybe that was why the questions were always asked.

 _When are you having a baby?_

 _Are you guys thinking about expanding this family of yours?_

 _Are you pregnant yet?_

 _You're_ not _pregnant yet?_

Damn, ignoring the pain was becoming more difficult…

The ones that did know, those choice few, still didn't realize the amount of pain it had been to _not_ be pregnant yet. No one realized that nearly eight months of trying to conceive had taken its toll on Emma. When the questions came, no matter how gentle, how teasing, how curious, or how random...

The questions had a way of sticking her right in her core. Each question had a way of slicing through her, burning on their way to their final destination: sometimes her heart, sometimes her mind…. They had a way of building up inside of her, leaving her with the task of holding it all in until… she was alone. When she was alone… She knew what would happen when she was finally alone. That was the perfect time for all those questions, all those comments, to attack again. When she was attacked… Well, refusing to crumple, deciding to ball it all up until the pain amounted to nothing really at all? That didn't always work. It was a lot easier, she was finding, to wallow in the despair of the betrayal of her own body.

Nobody wanted to hear that. No. They wanted the nice response, the uncomplicated response.

"Who knows?" Emma commented quietly. It was easier that way, clinging to the hope that the questions stopped there.

Even when it hurt, she got it. She understood. It was that understanding that made her want to ask Lily similar questions. Lily was a stepmother, but was there a drive to have a child of her own? Was there a need stirring around in her? Did Lily have a need much like the one stirring around in Emma? Did she have a craving for her own child?

It was the thought of the answer that seized Emma, stopping her short from following through with that tilt of her head and asking the question. What if… What if there wasn't an insisting and nagging need? What if Lily truly was happy in the role that she had? Because, Emma feared, it would hurt like hell to hear the desire in Lily's voice just as much as it would hurt to hear that she was much more than content to be only a stepmother.

Sometimes… it felt like a selfish act, being bothered by not having another child. She had Henry. She and Killian had Henry! So what right did she have to feel _hurt_ by knowing that her best friend desired having her own baby? Hell, what right did she have to feel anger-induced jealousy over the fact that Lily could, possibly, get pregnant at the drop of a hat if only she _did_ have the desire of having her own baby?

"Well," Lily huffed, folding yet another towel. "we're still a few weeks out." Her eyes brightened and her smile was wide. (Emma felt a tinge of jealousy over the true ease of her friend. Hm, a true ease, and not the facade of one that she apparently needed.) "We'll have to plan a night out before the kids get here and before Henry leaves."

They were only a few weeks away from all of that weren't they?

"Before my parents come in for their week-long stay, as well," Emma added quietly, her thoughts turning towards their planned trip that would mirror last year's trip. She felt the quirk of her lips and a hint of something genuine in her chest that wanted to rival the pit in her belly.

They had come and stayed last year, under the guise of spending some quality time with Henry before his trip to Tallahassee. A positive experience was driving them back again this year. Yearly trips. They were something that should have been in place long before, but… That was the past, wasn't it? No point in dwelling.

"Just one more reason to make sure that we do it and do it soon," Lilly said with an easy shrug.

Emma opened her mouth to agree, but it was hearing her phone as it began to ring that gave her pause. She pulled her phone from her pocket, her head tilting as her eyes took in the screen. There was only a second where she paused, a second of hesitation before she looked at Lily.

"It's Killian," she informed her, her finger already poised to to swipe at the screen.

Lily shook her head, her eyebrows raising immediately. "Don't let me hold you up."

Emma's smile was a quick lift of her lips before she stood up from the couch and walked a few few away as she answered the phone.

The hesitation was still there as she lifted the phone to her ear.

"Hey," she breathed out in way of greeting.

"Hey."

His quiet voice in her ear had that always-soothing quality to it. Soothing, but there was still that hint of apprehension that wanted to linger inside of her. There was a hint of trepidation that made her wary of what was to come.

"Your car's in the driveway," Killian commented quietly, the curiosity of the question that would follow was easy to surmise. He'd made it back home and was greeted by an empty house.

"I'm next door," Emma answered without being prompted. "I'm with Lily."

"Yes." It came out as a sigh. "That's what I'd pretty much figured."

Thoughts of the past night invaded and crowded her mind. If there was one thing that she didn't need to have filling her mind, it was thoughts of last night, but here they were.

Why did he have to say _that_? Why did he have to remind them both that there were certain days of the month where getting pregnant came a lot more easier than other days? Why did he have to remind them both that last night was the last night of her fertile period? Why did he have to stop looking at her as his wife, as the woman he wanted to make love to, and instead look at the whole damn situation as a pregnancy opportunity? Why did he make last night about… a _job_? A job that she was horrible at, for that matter?

"Ah." This time, it was an inhalation of breath, a pause. "I was wondering... " Another pause. Another breath. "Henry's not home either."

She fought the need to walk away, to put distance between herself and Lily. She fought even harder to not give in to the pain and hurt that had grown exponentially since she answered the phone.

"I know," Emma murmured softly. That ache had traveled from the small of her back all the way up to her shoulders, circulating the path the entire time.

Again, there was a pause. It made her wonder if it seemed as awkward a silence to Lily as it did to her. Probably not. Why would it?

"I thought… I thought perhaps we should talk," he finished firmly with maybe a hint of caution.

And there it was. Emma's mouth gaped opened involuntarily. She got it. She understood. How could she not when she was fighting the thoughts of how quiet their bedroom was last night, save the shifting of sheets, the short and sporadic grunt from Killian as he finished, or the simple sigh from herself? The room had grown even more silent once he'd walked out, and stayed that way when he'd finally made his way back much later.

"So… when you're done there," Killian continued lightly.

Emma's eyes blinked once, twice, then three times.

"I'll be home soon," she assured him just as lightly.

"Okay." There was a smile in his voice, which made her wonder how genuine it could have possibly been. He hadn't been all smiles that morning. "See you when you get home."

"Okay," she sighed, quickly turning…

"I love you." The way the words slipped from his lips was second-nature. Still…

It did something to her heart. It did something to her womb, causing this fierce tug from way down deep.

"I love you, too." It was not much more than a whisper, but the returned sentiment also gripped at her. So why did it hurt as well? Maybe not hurt… Maybe it was just an overwhelming need. An overwhelming need to close that chasm-sized gap between them just so that she could wrap her arms around him and not let go for a very long time.

Emma heard the phone call disconnect, finally noticing that Killian had hung up. Which meant that her attention could turn back to her friend who was still right there.

She offered Lily a quick smile.

"Killian's made it home," she told her, making her way back to the couch, slipping the phone back into her pocket. Her fingers made their way to her hair that fell over her shoulders, slipping through the strands and fixing the imaginary messiness of it.

Lily returned the smile, her eyes taking Emma in. "So what about that girl's night, hm?"

Emma nodded quickly. refusing to show any outward feelings towards what was waiting for her at home. As she closed herself in… herself, her feelings, once more, she felt the way that ache continued to spread. She felt the ache, the dull pain, as it ran over her shoulders and into the deepest part of her chest. It stopped her from taking in too deep of a breath, but it didn't stop her from sharing a smile.

"A girl's night it is then."

* * *

She knew instantly upon seeing him that he wanted to talk about the last night. Maybe that was reason her steps were not only slow, but stilted, as she closed the back door behind her. She wondered if he had been waiting for her or if he had, for some reason, been hanging around in the dining room. Maybe the potted plants that sat in front of the open windows had been in need of a quick drink. Or maybe he was in there because he was finally ready to tackle that wobbly shelf showcasing one of his framed drawings. But, as he sat at the table facing the door directly, it was easy to see that it was neither of those things.

"Hey, you made it back," she greeted him lightly, stating the obvious. Her eyes fell away from him, taking in the way the sunlight filtered into the room, bouncing off the pale yellow walls and brightening the entire room.

"So did you," Killian murmured softly.

Emma turned her attention back to him just in time to see his lips turn up in a mirthless smile, his fingers holding onto the edge of the table.`

"Emma?"

There. The way her name strained restlessly from his mouth confirmed everything that she was thinking.

Last night hadn't been one of their shining moments. That had been easily noted as she turned over onto her side, wrapping the blankets up around her shoulders after it was all over. The exclamation point had been the way Killian had slipped from the bed the moment he thought that she was asleep, disappearing from their bedroom for longer than she would have ever expected.

"Are we talking now?" Killian's voice wasn't much more than the same murmur.

Last night had been bad, but to top it off this morning _hadn't_ been much better, had it? Emma didn't know; was the blame supposed to be hers? Killian had made it seem as if the blame was supposed to be hers. Was that why he had laid in bed a lot longer than he usually did? Was that fact the perfect excuse for her rushing through her morning routine of getting up and dressed and headed downstairs without a word? It all didn't seem like coincidences...

It shouldn't have surprised her that he had left the house early that morning. It didn't surprise her that he had left for Liam's with little more than that as an explanation, leaving her alone with her own misery and sadness. When he'd left for Liam's, it was with a mutter on his way out the same side door she had just walked through.

"Had we stopped?" Emma finally moved away from the door, moving through the room and planning to continue on her way.

"You know what I mean." It was soft with maybe a hint of frustration on Killian's part.

Emma stopped where she stood, only a foot or so away from where he sat.

He'd dropped his head. She couldn't see the clench of his jaw, but she could imagine it as his fingers drummed the wood of the table.

"We're talking," she conceded just as quietly.

His eyes locked on hers, a clear blue calm. It was more than that though. She was looking her husband in the eye and...

It all should have dissipated, the turmoil and stress. Part of it did. Part of the confliction faded away as she met his gaze. In its place was a need to let go, a need to give in and let go of all the wariness inside of her.

"Good." He nodded firmly. "Emma-"

Her heart hitched in her chest at the sound of her name on his lips, at the way he spoke her name with so much weariness, with so much confusion. He wanted to talk about last night, to discuss the mess of their evening and ... she didn't know if she was ready. The rollercoaster that her emotions had taken her on had left her spent. If he wanted to talk, if he wanted answers _right now_ , she wasn't sure how much good she would be to him at the moment.

"Henry told me that he was still debating on if he should should take his camera to Tallahassee with him or not," Emma cut in, not giving him the chance to go wherever he was attempting to go. If they didn't go _there,_ then maybe they could avoid the messiness of last night. "Did he tell you that?" Maybe the potted plants _did_ need a drink. She hadn't watered them. Emma moved across the room with long strides, making her way towards where the plants sat.

"No…" She looked back in time to see Killian shake his head, his eyes blinking once then twice. "No, he didn't tell me that."

"It's his most expensive piece of equipment," Emma reminded him, her brows raising. "He knows how useful it'll be for his senior year projects that he'll have next year. And he's going to be building up his portfolio." Her fingers slipped over the healthy green leaf of the houseplant before wandering down into the soil.

"I'm sure nothing will happen to it if he takes it to Tallahassee with him. Emma?"

"Hm?" She turned back around, her focus on the kitchen and getting the watering can.

Killian stood up from his seat. For a moment he stood there and shifted his weight from foot to foot, almost as if he were trying to decide his next move. Then, he took a step forward to close the distance between them. She inhaled sharply, she should have expected this.

"You said we were talking," he pointed out plainly.

Emma nodded. "We are."

His fingers slipped through hers, pausing her getaway and, instead, gently urged her to turn back towards him.

She held her breath as she did so, facing him up close for the first time. And…

Emma swallowed, meeting her Killian's eyes once more. The feeling was instant, the want of losing herself in him. If she could have anything right now… Yes, if she could have _anything_ right now, it would be the ability to drop all of the facade and lose herself in her husband. God, if she _needed_ anything, it was that.

She licked her lips and closed her eyes, moving into him and laying her cheek to against him. In that instant, he was everything that she needed, just like she knew he could be. If she wasn't afraid, if she'd had the strength, she would have confessed that bit of truth. Unfortunately, she knew the reason for this confrontation..

He wanted to do the baby talk thing. Emma closed her eyes even tighter, trying to shut out that tingling pain that was traveling throughout her body. She didn't want to do the baby talk thing. That topic of conversation hurt her to her core (her body was proof of that right now) and he just didn't understand that (because keeping that pain invisible was a job she took seriously)..

Killian closed his arms around her, almost making her whimper at the feeling of instant security rising in her chest. If that security wanted to push away the pain, she would gladly let it.

Emma closed her eyes and remembered what is was like to just be _with_ Kilian, remembered a life that wasn't based solely on the idea of getting pregnant. She remembered a life that had changed her all for the better. It was difficult getting back to that place, but that wasn't Killian's fault. Maybe she had made it Killian's fault last night, when all she had wanted was a time where her husband's focus was on her and not on making a baby. That was it.

"Love?" The endearment was genuine, she knew. Killian's voice was a deep rumble that broke the long silence before he cleared his throat. His fingers gripped the hair that fell over her back, tugging gently.

Emma knew what it would feel like to have the blackness closing in, an emptiness that would rise up and take hold of her. She shook her head, her lips pursing tightly, and pushed it all away.. She didn't want to get lost in some depressive state. If she let her sadness and hurt over failing to get pregnant, that's where she would head. If she continued to slip into a sadness, it would lead to a spiralling hole of depression that she'd have to work herself out of (if she could).

Sharing what was happening with him, letting him know that she was easily on her way to that place, wasn't something she could do. He wouldn't understand. He wouldn't see what she saw. He wouldn't understand the depths of failure that she was causing them both. So she hoped… She nearly prayed…

"How was your visit with Lily?" Killian murmured just above her ear.

Seriously? A simple question. He'd asked her about her day.

A fraction, a tiny sliver, of the pain melted away.

Emma smiled against his shirt, her eyes opening. "Good. As always." She turned her face up at him and was instantly greeted by warm and insistent lips falling over hers. "We were thinking about having a night out before things begin jumping off."

"Like the kids coming in for the summer."

Killian's attention to detail made her smile again. (That was another sliver, wasn't it?)

"But before Henry leaves and before my parents get here," she added. "I'll wrangle Ruby into it as well."

"I'm sure," he murmured, his arms tightening wonderfully around her.. Killian's eyes burned into hers, watching with an intensity that she was all too aware of. His smile was easy though, a conflicting war, she was sure. "You know, if Henry takes his camera, he'll have the opportunity to get some amazing footage while he's gone."

Emma blinked up at him, appreciating more than he could ever know of the turn of topic.

"Yeah, that's true," she whispered.

"And the lad's as responsible as they come," Killian reminded her. "Especially with his most prized possessions."

Emma nodded, agreeing. "You're right." She nodded again. "Okay." She moved then, attempting to slip out of his arms.

"Emma?" He stopped her short, holding a firm grasp of her arm.

"What?"

She wondered if it was the worry in her gaze, because she wasn't quick enough to hide it when he'd first called her. There had to be more on his mind than the words he spoke. She knew that. And maybe she shouldn't have been so grateful by the fact that he'd cautioned himself, not speaking on the subject that was burning between them.

"Henry doesn't have any issues with giving up his bedroom for a couple of days to his grandparents, did he?" Killian asked softly, a single brow raising.

She shook her head slowly, giving his question some thought. "I don't think so."

Killian let her go then, his head nodding.

"By their next visit, we'll have to make sure to have better accommodations," he murmured quietly. "At least, better alternatives."

Emma's smile was small this time. Thoughts of the third bedroom upstairs crossed her mind, a bedroom that was bedless still because… She pushed the thoughts away and, instead, pressed herself once again into her husband.

"For now, it's fine," she assured him. "It's… fine."

* * *

"I can't wait until you guys get here," Emma confessed into the phone, falling down on the edge of her bed. The admission to her mother had been nothing but the truth. She couldn't wait.

"We're excited, too, Emma," her mother told her, sounding possibly even more giddy than Emma did herself.

It put a smile on her face. Her relationship with her parents…. hadn't always been so easy. A better relationship, an open relationship, had been one of the greatest accomplishments of being honest and open about her herself. Before Killian…

The amount of years that she had been shielded were… more than she liked to think about. But that was the past. All in the past.

"Mom?" Emma's eyes crossed the room, settling on the open door.

"What is it, sweetie?"

Emma sighed, imagining the tilt of her mother's head and the softness of her eyes from the other end of the line.

"I just… can't wait to get… a chance to talk to you," she finally got out. "I really just… want to talk to you."

"In person," she concluded. She'd concluded from Emma's tone, she was sure, that it was a face-to-face conversation that she'd wanted.

"In person," Emma agreed quietly.

"Is everything alright, sweetie?" There was a tinge of worry, but only a small one. There was still a hint of hopefulness and lightness in her voice. Perhaps it was the honesty, once more, that let her know that the barriers that had once been there weren't there anymore. Emma had, in fact, let her know that she wanted to talk to her. In person.

"Everything's fine." At least, Emma hoped that everything was okay. She wanted everything to be okay. So maybe the words that her mother would share with her with put a much-needed ease in her. Maybe. Hopefully.

"I can't wait until I'm there, Emma," she told her, the smile bubbling up to the surface and through the phone. "We can't wait to see what you three have done with the house."

"Heavily influenced by Killian, I can at least say that," Emma said with a smile.

"How is Killian?" she asked, now a laugh in her voice.

How was Killian?

"He's good. We're all good," Emma assured her mother.

"Good. Good."

There was a lightness in Emma's heart that she had desperately needed, and her mother had given her that. That lightness couldn't even be dashed by the heaviness of anything else. Soon enough, she would be able to pull her mother aside and have the heart-to-heart that she desperately needed to have.

"I love you, Mom," she sighed into the phone, needing so much to share that fact and that sentiment with her.

"Emma, I love you, too."

It wasn't as if she hadn't believed it before. It wasn't as if she hadn't known it her whole life. There was just something about hearing the words come back _this_ time. _This_ time, those words soothed a part of her soul that was more burned than she realized.

Would it last, past this moment? It was a temporary fix, Emma knew that. Without trying, she called upon that painful ache. It lingered, waiting.

Her eyes closed tight, her grip on the phone grew as well.

For now, she was going to live in the moment that her mother and her mother's words had created for her. It was the safest decision, the only decision, to make.


	9. Chapter 8

"Are you sure you are okay with Henry's last night home being a guys' night out?" Killian sounded dubious as one end of his tie flipped over the other end. His gaze stayed transfixed on his motions through the reflection of the mirror.

"When the guys consist of you, Henry, and my dad?" Emma commented lightly, nodding her head. "Yeah, I'm okay with that."

He huffed out a grin as his hands alternated sliding down the length of the tie.

"Okay, you're okay with a guys' night out, but…" Killian swung around, finding her on the opposite side of the room. "How are you feeling overall?" It was as if he was holding his breath, his chest puffing out just slightly.

She knew why he asked...

"I'll spend some time with my mother," she reminded him quietly, wanting her mind to focus on something positive. "I'll be fine."

This time, the small inhalation of breath was more noticeable.

Her attention to detail where Killian was concerned brought her attention to her own physical response. The sagging of her shoulders didn't match the sentiment that had left her mouth. It was then that she stood just a little bit taller, a little more deliberate, before he noticed what she herself had noticed.

She knew what he meant, so there was no point in denying it. There was no point in not answering the question that he was asking her.

"It wasn't as if I was surprised," Emma muttered, her stare locking on his with a little more ferocity than was granted. "It's been a day, Killian."

She swallowed the small lump, deciding already that maybe she didn't want to get into _this_ right now. She also noticed the slump of her shoulders, losing almost all of the height she had formerly gained. Another month, another pregnancy test that read negative. It _hadn't_ come as a surprise. When her period showed up in another day or so later, it also wouldn't be without hurt. She knew that Killian realized that. Sometimes the hurt was harder to ignore than other times. Sometimes there wasn't a point to even try to ignore it.

"Doesn't feel like much of a time for celebrating is all," Killian murmured back, his head tilted as his eyes caught hold of hers before slipping away. "At least-"

"My parents are here and Henry leaves tomorrow," she reminded him lightly. Since when had he become sensitive to the pain of it all? She didn't like that thought either… "It's kind of the whole point of this night."

Killian's brow rose sharply in surprise. "Separately?" he asked. It sounded incredulous to her ear as he chose to not let go of the topic so easily. He took a one step forward before he stopped himself, his hand rising halfway before falling again.

Maybe there was another moment to be completely honest with her husband, before he attempted to continue to wherever he was leading their conversation.

Emma lifted a shoulder. "I want to spend some time with my mother, just the two of us."

That was all she needed to say, she realized. Killian closed his eyes and dipped his head down in a short nod.

"I understand," he murmured softly.

Did he understand? Maybe. Even if he didn't understand the implication completely, he understood at least the facade of it.

"Then, guys' night out and ladies' night in," Killian conceded.

Maybe that's why it didn't hurt so much. Maybe it was the knowledge that her mother was down the hall in Henry's room with her dad, helping him get ready for the night out. Maybe that was why it only hurt a bit that she had failed in month eight just as she had in all those other months. Because this time, she didn't have to keep it in. This time, she was going to have her mother to lean on, to learn from, and to confide in. And that was a very new concept for Emma.

The space between them became less and less as Killian strode towards her. His eyes never left her, falling from head to toe as he met her on the opposite side of their bedroom.

There was a part of her that didn't want his touch, a part of her that nearly cringed at the idea of being comforted by her husband. That part of her feared that his touch was solely due to the latest pregnancy test that had read a negative result. Did he think that an embrace would fix everything? Then… there was still another part of her that wanted to respond to the genuine affection, and it _was_ genuine, that Killian was willing to offer her, allowing him to share in the pain of not being pregnant.

Even with all the indecision boiling up inside her, the latter feeling won out.

Killian's arms wrapped around her back, pulling her against him firmly. Emma's fingers gripped at his shirt until…

The former feeling rose its head…

She opened her hand over his chest, pushing herself out of his grasp before spinning around and away.

Emma heard the inhalation of breath once more from behind her. It was followed by… nothing. He chose to stay silent, and it made her wonder how difficult that was from him.

She wouldn't let the guilt of needing time and space eat away at her. She couldn't let the fact that he'd apparently accepted her needs eat away at her either. His silence spoke volumes of how well he knew her. For now… she would welcome the stop to _that_ part of their conversation.

"I'm going to go check on everyone else and see how they're coming along," she murmured, her gaze training on her exit out of the room.

"I'll be down in a moment," Killian murmured back.

"I'll let everyone know," Emma said lightly, turning her head to take in just the quickest of peeks. In that peek, she was treated to the thinning of his lips and downcasting of his eyes before he, too, turned around.

"Good then, Emma."

It would have been easy to dwell on that final look of his. She didn't want to dwell, didn't want her mind to fixate on the need to walk away from her husband and the topic of conversation. She didn't need the lingering thoughts of what her push pull away from him had meant to _him_.

Emma widened the steps she took, leading her out of the bedroom.

"See you then."

There was no response this time. Had she expected a response? Yes, but…

Hmm…

This is what she got, for wanting, for wishing, for needing.

No, there's was no point of dwelling on any of it. Chalk it up to another month of failure, and that was all there was to it.

* * *

"And now that we are finally alone."

It was the first thing to fall from her mother's lips as the front door closed on the her dad, husband, and son.

Emma turned around quickly to face her mother, her eyes widening just a little. She just as quickly let whatever barriers that were previously holding her up slip away from her. As the need to let go hit her hard, her lips turned up in a smile.

"You want to sit on the couch and talk?" she asked, holding back on a bit of the sheer need to have this time with her mother.

Mary Margaret followed where Emma lead, finding a couch cushion right next to the one Emma had taken.

It was easy to sink into the small hand that was placed on Emma's cheek, another smile crossing her face.

"How are you doing, Emma?" her mother asked her softly, her gaze falling over her face. "How are all of you doing?"

Emma shook her head. "We're okay." Her head shook again. "I'm just happy that you're here."

"And I'm just happy to hear you say those words," Mary Margaret admitted with a small giggle, the corners of her eyes crinkling just so.

How had so many years gone past with such a distance between her and her parents? Emma knew how. She also knew how all that had changed…

"I wanted to talk to you, Mom," she whispered, more of the pretense falling away from her outer shell.

"Let's talk, sweetie," Mary Margaret said, her head tilting and her gaze now searching Emma's face.

Emma found herself doing her own watching. It had always amazed her to see what her parents had with one another. There was something quite perfect about each of them, and when they came together, it was quite magical. Emma had always wondered how it had worked out that way. She had always wondered how two of the most perfect people in the world could be saddled with a daughter like her. Someone who was as far from perfect as she, she just hadn't gotten it. And then she'd met Killian and… other things had come to light. Things about herself. So maybe she had been wrong all those years. Maybe she wasn't the disappointment that she'd told herself she was.

It had taken so much to get to that moment. Now that she was here, there was a strong need. A need to confide in her mother on the issue that was now plaguing her so terribly. The one issue that caused so much pain to take hold of her heart and claim it as its own.

"What is it, Emma?" Mary Margaret asked softly, her eyes settling on Emma's now.

What was it? So many things.

"Mom?" It left her mouth just as softly. "I needed to ask you something." For her own sanity, she needed to know.

"Something that you… couldn't ask me over the phone." Her mother nodded her head this time. "Ask away, Emma."

She was right. It was something that she couldn't have done over the phone. Which was why she was grateful that this day was finally here.

Emma pursed her lips for a moment, taking in a small breath. To have been so perfect, at just about everything, her parents had stopped at her. Why? It was thoughts of her own chances of expanding her family, actually giving Killian his own child, that worried her.

"Emma?" She asked it with a small laugh, but one of knowing…

"Mom?" Emma started again with a sigh. "Why didn't you have anymore kids after me?"

There. The question was out, looming above both of their heads.

Emma felt the immediate tilt of her hand and the pull of her brows into a frown.

"Why didn't we have anymore kids?" Mary Margaret repeated, her shoulders caving in and a hint of surprise taking over her features.

She almost asked straight out, she almost asked her mother if it was because she _couldn't_ have more children. But that was the answer that she needed. Was it Emma's fate, as it was her mother's, to only have one child?

"They said not to worry the first year," Emma shared with a single shake of her head, unable to hold in her own grief. "They said to give it twelve months and to not think of it as a problem if it hasn't happened before that time, but…" Her mouth shut instantly, not finishing the thought.

Mary Margaret's hands fell down to Emma's lap, grabbing up both of her hands and holding on firmly.

"Why didn't you have any more kids after me, Mom?" Emma asked again. It came out softly, only laced with the emotion that was beginning to flood her.

Mary Margaret's eyes lifted, watching the ceiling instead of Emma. How much attention she was actually giving it, Emma wasn't sure.

"Emma, you think…" She paused, her lips moving silently as if to gather her thoughts.

"Did you have problems conceiving, is that it?" Emma blurted out, her eyes widening imploringly. She couldn't help herself, couldn't wait any longer to hear her mother's story. It had been a niggling thought in her mind for months now, being able to fill in that piece of the puzzle. It was all a puzzle to her...

Mary Margaret's smile was small. "No," she confirmed softly, and maybe even a bit shyly. "There weren't any problems."

 _No._

"No?"

This time, her mother shook her head.

So… it wasn't…

"Then," Emma started slowly, tilting her head, "was there a reason why you didn't have any children _after_ me?" Right now, they were in similar scenarios: one child each. Her parents had been fairly young parents themselves, much like Emma had been when she had Henry. "Was there anything that happened _after_ me?"

Again, her mother shook her head. "You don't have to worry about that, Emma." There was a frown that overtook her features this time, worry lines finding their way as well. "There is nothing wrong with you. There is no reason that you can't or _won't_ have more babies, if that is what you want."

The words, and the soothing touch that followed, almost calmed Emma's heart. Almost.

"That's what people like to tell me," she admitted with a tremulous smile. "It's not always easy to believe after eight months of trying and failing."

"Emma." The murmur was soft, hints of pain and hurt laced the way she said her name quietly.

Being pulled into her mother's arms had a distinct feeling of being _right_ in that moment, and when Mary Margaret closed her hands around Emma's head, she went willingly to lay against her chest. Emma closed her eyes as she was treated to the sound of a strong heartbeat underneath her ear.

It had never been like this before. She had never let herself have something like this with either one of her parents. Not for most of her years of life. Now? Now, she couldn't imagine not being able to be vulnerable, if even for just a little while, with her mother.

"I don't know." It was an honest whisper that was full of Emma's indecision. "I'm two-thirds of the way in to this first year, and what does that mean?"

Her mother was silent for a moment, her hand slipping softly over Emma's hair.

"I know it must feel like an impossible thing to have faith, Emma," she murmured quietly, yet strongly. "I know it still feels that way when everyone is telling you something else. But it's not them. I know, sweetheart."

Emma blinked her eyes opened, felt the warmness of the tears stinging there, and then closed her eyes once more.

"Sometimes you just don't want to hear those words. Sometimes, you just want to cocoon yourself in the here and now of what you're facing."

It was true…

"I know that's the easy thing to do, Emma," she continued softly. "But don't lose yourself in those thoughts. Don't do it." She was shaking her head above her this time. "Because even though everyone around you is keeping all the faith in the world for you, you have to have some, too."

It wasn't that she didn't want to have faith…

Eight months…

"Sometimes I just think… I took too long," Emma admitted quietly. "That… I met Killian too late. That I… took too long getting to a good place in life. That I have everything that I'll ever have and nothing more."

Mary Margaret's hand stilled on the crown of Emma's head.

"No, Emma," she whispered. "I'm going to refuse to believe that. You have not plateaued in life. There's so much more that you want. You will have it. Just… just don't lose faith, Emma."

Her mother was asking a lot from her...

Emma began to move then, sitting up once again. She saw the mixture of worry and hope that showed in her mother's features.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, shaking her head, knowing that she was the cause for that look.

Mary Margaret's eyes searched her face. "Sorry for what?"

Emma shook her head again. "For… monopolizing your time like this. For making you listen to my issues about… all of this."

Her features softened then, Mary Margaret's hand coming to slip back over Emma's.

"You're not monopolizing my time, Emma," she assured her softly. "At this time, in this moment, I wouldn't want to be sharing anything _other_ than this with you right now. Emma, when you need someone, when you need me, I am always here for you."

Mary Margaret's eyes grew wide, searching Emma's face and attempting to convey the severity of her words.

Emma got it. She understood. It wasn't only she who appreciated the change in their relationship. She knew that.

She nodded her head this time, her lips rolling in and her eyes sticking to her mother's.

"I know, Mom."

She knew a lot of things now, had learned a lot in the last couple of years. It didn't take away from the pain of the process she was currently going through. What it did do was make it all bearable. The pain was bearable because… in that moment… it was okay to not close in on herself. It was okay- it was more than okay- to lean terribly hard on someone else. Which is just what she did in that moment.

Emma closed the gap between her and her mother, placing her head back onto her chest. And for a moment, it was everything that she needed.

* * *

Emma remembered when summer trips to the airport were a twosome thing. She remembered what it was like to see her son off for another summer stay in Tallahassee, leaving her alone for all of those months. It was no longer an Emma and Henry thing anymore. He wasn't the same little boy either.

There was a sadness that still rolled around inside her as she watched her mother fuss over her son and her dad, always on the cooler side of cool (if he did say so himself), sharing some deep conversation with Henry. Off to the side, she saw the depth of pride that was hidden on her husband's face as he stood there watching, arms crossed and small smile. There was something to say about seeing that. Then… what was the sadness for?

Emma looked up at Henry. Part of that sadness was for him. It was amazing to see how he had grown up. It had always been the two of them. Always. For the last sixteen-plus years. And her son was nearing adulthood- _adulthood-_ with the speed of… She didn't know.

Sitting there. having the definitive proof of not being pregnant, it took everything inside her to let go of all the pain. And she _did_ want to let go of it all. She wanted it to disappear forever. Even if she wasn't pregnant, she still didn't want it to to have that death grip on her entire life, leaving her unable to enjoy… anything at all.

She wasn't pregnant. Eight months of trying, and there was little success that she could pocket and hold on to. It didn't make her a total failure in life, did it?

Emma glanced up at her family. She looked up at her husband, finding him now next to Henry and listening intently to whatever the stepson was sharing with the stepfather. It brought a small smile to her face. It wasn't enough, but their friendship and relationship meant a lot to her. As much as it meant to them, she knew.

Instinctively… she turned her attention in the opposite direction. She wasn't surprised to find that her mother already had her in her view. There was a small smile waiting for Emma on Mary Margaret's face. She read the encouragement in that smile. She read the love that she was trying to impart of Emma herself.

Emma almost smiled, attempted something slight in return. But… maybe her mother had been right. Maybe it wasn't a lost cause just because it had been eight months with no sign of success. Wasn't she successful in many other areas in life? The attempt at a smile grew a little before…

She turned back around, turned towards her son once more and her husband. They were closer than before, easy smiles and a gentle clamp of Killian's teeth down to his lip.

Emma couldn't help it. He deserved more. He deserved that she gave him more. It wasn't just him though, she knew. Her hand clamped down on her flat belly, quickly turning into a fist and digging in. She deserved it as well. Something that was bigger than all of them. Something that was more than them. Or a combination of them…

A link...

From feet away, Killian's teeth-baring grin was infectious. Not only for Emma, who felt the turn of her lips upwards in a genuine smile, but for Henry as well. She watched as Killian threw an arm around the back of Henry's neck, dragging her son all the closer to him.

A son.

Emma's fist grinded into her belly once more with force this time.

She wanted a little girl. She could imagine a little girl. Looking a bit like her cousins because she had a feeling that those Jones' genes had the chance of being dominant. Fair-skinned and deep deep eyes that were maybe her own green. He'd said that a daughter would be a princess in his eyes…

Killian wanted a son. Emma could imagine him, too. Imagining him caused a twitch of her lips and the smile to grow once more. His hair had the same quality of that of the little girl, midnight black. Her own imagination couldn't even conjure up a fair-haired little boy, a shade somewhere between hers and her own father! No, they were definitely ruled out when it came to that.

A son…

Emma let both hands fall away from her stomach, letting them lay limp, along with her arms, against her side.

It hadn't happened. She hadn't gotten pregnant. Just as she knew she wouldn't.

She wanted to be pregnant. She wanted to get pregnant. What she didn't want was to dwell in a sorrow about _not_ being pregnant. Not now. Not anymore. At least… not right now.

The sound of the PA pricked Emma's ears, causing her focus to draw towards the speakers above her.

Flight information. Boarding call and instructions for flight 5091. Henry's flight.

"Emma, he's about to board."

Killian's voice drew her attention back, her gaze falling on them both and catching the glimpses of smiles that were still plastered to their faces.

Emma moved, her arms crossing over her chest and her head tilting as she finally made her way over to both of them.

Henry… wasn't that little boy anymore. She almost voiced the sentiment, but knew that it wouldn't go over well. It still wasn't a surprise how he stepped away from Killian and moved swiftly over to her.

He took her in a hug, his arms wrapping around her neck. Emma hugged him back tightly, her fingers settling on the back of his head and holding firm.

"Have a great summer okay, kid," she murmured.

Henry nodded. "I will." He moved back, allowing for enough room to look at her. "You have a great summer, too."

Emma controlled the desire to widen her eyes, instead settling on a flash of a smile.

"I'll try my best." Her fingers found the collar of his shirt. "I'm going to miss you though. Just like always."

Henry watched her silently, his eyes falling on parts of her face. She didn't know why.

"Relax some, Mom," he finally said simply, a shoulder hitching up. "Have fun."

Simple, yes, but… Emma let her eyes widen that time on him.

"You too," she whispered. That was all because… hm… she didn't know.

His arms were around her again, hugging her tighter than she could remember him doing in a very long time. It brought a smile to her face, it brought a need to hold him just as close as he was holding her. It was… another reminder of what she wanted. A reminder of what she wanted for…

Emma's gaze traveled over and up, her eyes settling on the tilt of her husband's head, the shuffle of his feet in front of him, and the way his hands slipped into the pockets of his pants.

Her eyes closed just then, her eyelashes settling softly on her cheeks as she held Henry even longer.

It was easy to say the words. It was easy to give her son hope in a way that would cause him not to worry about her. It was something else when it came to convincing herself. Not that she didn't want to… She wanted to have faith in herself, to take a step away from the shadows of pain that was in front of her. Easier said than done, but she still wanted it.

She almost let her thoughts drift. She almost let herself sink into the sadness that had the strong possibility of swooping her up in some overwhelming sadness. Doing so would have undermined everything that she wanted. It would have made her a liar to Henry.

"I'm going to miss you, Henry," she whispered plainly.

This time… she let him go. With a smile lifting the corners of her lip she pulled back and separated herself from him.

Henry was quick to move, not lingering for a moment as he turned around from her. The carryon bag that had been set off to the side was scooped up in his hand before he swept his gaze across everyone who was there.

"Well. I'll see you guys later," he said firmly, too firmly for those sixteen years of his. At least, Emma felt that way… The bag was held tighter as he moved again, meeting his grandparents with quicker and shorter hugs.

Emma let her arms fall to her sides, a deep breath filling her lungs. It was only then that she looked back at Killian and saw… the way he looked at her.

It would be just the two of them. In mere minutes, there wouldn't be anything to distract them from… them. The deep blue of his eyes had a way of conveying that he knew her deepest and darkest secrets.

Just the two of them.

And the truth.

It wasn't easy, letting go. It wouldn't be easy, having faith.

He was slow to turn his gaze away from her, even as Henry moved in on him. The hug they shared was one of love, a father and son type of love that had been true for so long. The words whispered between them were their own, and Emma wasn't sure what they were. Something significant maybe, based on the smiles and nods that followed.

It would be easy to give into the pain, wouldn't it?

Yes, but there was enough of her that wanted to let go of the pain. Even the pain that swirled inside of her in that same moment could be let go, if she tried hard enough. She would have to try really really hard to let go of the pain that was swirling around inside of her.

It took every bit of her strength to not close her arms around her middle as they all filed somewhere close to Henry and began to make their way towards the gate. It took every bit of her strength to keep her mind focused on the goal she was setting for herself.

When Killian's steps slowed to a crawl, allowing her to catch up with him, she let him slip his arm around her shoulders.

Emma didn't look up immediately. Instead, her eyes locked on the backs of those in front of them.

"Are you?" Killian's voice was barely more than a murmur as his arm hung loosely from around her shoulders.

"Am I… what?" The question left her mouth without setting eyes on him. But she knew what he was asking her, didn't she? "Fine? I'm fine." She did look at him that time.

 _I want to be fine._

She didn't say it. Somehow, knowing him, knowing that he knew her… she didn't have to say it. There was still the need from him to look way down deep inside her to to find the truth. Emma knew that was why his gaze had settled there on her face while their steps slowed even further.

 _I want so much for us._

Those words didn't leave her mouth either, but the thought left a flutter in her heart..

 _I want our baby, Killian._

Neither did those. It was a thought that wouldn't leave her alone. It was a need that refused to die. She didn't want it to die anyway. It was what she wanted for them, pure and simple. The fact that they hadn't made it happen yet didn't lessen the need.

Emma held in her sigh, but let her body brush up closer against his. It was a conscious effort to let go of at least some of the pain, and replace it with the hope that was trying to swirl inside and around her heart.

Killian did smile, a small lift of his lips. He pressed a quick and firm kiss against her temple, pulling her even tighter against him. He didn't say anything after that. He didn't need to say anything after that.

Neither did Emma. Everything was right there, trying to burst out of her. Everything that she wanted, everything that she needed…

It was going to take a conscious effort, to believe in herself and to not give up. She didn't know how long she would be able to pull that effort off, but right now…

It was something that she willed herself to do. Something she had to believe in if she was going to have everything that she wanted out of life.


	10. Chapter 9

"Killian." His name wasn't much more than a quiet, desperate, needy whisper.

He didn't know what spurred him on more: the way his name left her mouth in little hiccups or the way her fingernails dug deep into his shoulders from underneath his shirt. Or maybe…

"Killian!"

Maybe it was the way her body clamped around him, taking seize of him and commanding the shuddered pulse of a release. Yes, maybe that was it…

"Bloody hell." He head dropped, his mouth finding her shoulder and settling firmly there.

"Killian." It was a whimper now, Emma's voice soft near his ear as he kept himself from collapsing atop her. Instead, her leg wrapped around his hip, pulling him the rest of the way down to her.

"Can we stay just like this until enough strength enters my body so that we can do it all over again?" It was his turn to murmur, the words getting lost against her shoulder. It wasn't all in jest. Emma had a way of corrupting his entire body, in all the good ways, and she had just done it.

Her fingernails etched into the back and her body clung to his, her leg wrapping tight around his. The hiccup was gone, leaving behind shallow breaths. God, could they just stay exactly like this? Or perhaps trailing a path of kisses down the center of her body until he reached _right there._

"You're insatiable," Emma reminded him, her voice still that delectable whimper.

Killian pressed his lips against her shoulder and muttered, "Only whenever you let me be."

She sighed an _Um_ before her hands fell from underneath his shirt.

"I don't think staying here is going to be an option anyway." Those hands slipped over his back before pushing into the hair found at his nape.

Killian lifted his head, meaning to look into the face of the one that had drained him completely.

The look he found there gave him pause. The glow was there, a sheen of pleasure that he was sure was coursing through her. But there was something about her eyes. There was something that he didn't want to akin to a mixture of sadness and hope. As her fingers sifted through the hair at the nape of his neck, as her eyes wandered across his face, he wondered about her thoughts.

He had the question of _Why_ on his lips, but the answer came in the form of his phone before he even had the chance to ask. Emma was right. Her all-knowing smile said that she knew she was right as well, glancing from him to the nightstand beside them.

"Bloody hell." This time, the curse held a note of exasperation. He moved reluctantly, letting Emma slip away from underneath him as he reached over for his phone.

"We promised," she reminded him.

Liam's name filled the screen boldly, forcing Killian to roll over onto his back as he answered the call.

"Hello."

He watched as Emma made her way over to her dresser, appreciating the wobbly-legged progression. Her movement also meant that it was time to put their amazing morning behind them and ready themselves for the day that was to come.

"Good morning, brother." There was a smile in Liam's voice. "We just wanted to let you know that we'll be there in about… twenty minutes?"

Killian could hear Ruby's quiet affirmation from the other end.

"Yeah, twenty minutes," Liam told him.

"They're on their way," Killian said, watching Emma drop both the pair of panties and bra onto the top of the dresser before closing the drawer they'd come from.

"Okay, we'll be ready." She looked over her shoulder, the waves of blonde hair partially covering her face.

"We'll be… ready," he echoed into the phone.

"Okay, good." Liam's voice still held the smile. "We really appreciate you guys doing this."

"We're looking forward to a day with the boys," Killian assured his brother, watching Emma give a quick nod of agreement. "So no worries. We'll see you when you get here."

"Okay. See you in the next twenty minutes," Liam said easily.

Emma was disappearing into the bathroom…

"See you then, brother." Killian slid the phone from his ear and disconnected the call. There was nothing to complain about. Not really. Not after…

He could have lived in that memory for the entire twenty minutes, but that wasn't possible. Their day was about to really begin. Connor and Brennan would be there soon.

* * *

"Everything that you could possibly need is packed in either one of their bags."

"When she says _everything_ , she means _everything."_

Killian heard Ruby and Liam's voices from the staircase, making his steps quicker.

"I'm positive that we won't have any problems," Emma assured them. "And we're looking forward to having an entire day with the boys. Especially with all the festivities going on."

It would be good practice. It was always good practice, Kilian thought to himself, making his final descent from the stairs. It wasn't officially an annual event, but it would be the second year in a row that the boys would be in the care of he and Emma the day before Independence Day. Not only was it good practice, but there was a real joy that he felt about getting his hands dirty when it came to the boys. When it was an overnight stay, including an early morning start, there was no way of getting out of getting his hands dirty.

"Killian." Liam's voice was chipper, a smile to match crossed his face. "Good morning, brother."

Killian murmured his greeting, taking in the sight of his brother and sister-in-law standing together with their oldest hugged to Ruby's hip. His eyes swept the room until he heard the heavy-pounding of little sneakers hitting the wood of the floor. There wasn't much more than a second to share a quick look with his wife before his attention was averted.

"Killy!" Brennan's shriek was followed by the young boy opening his arms,lunging right for Killian.

He scooped him up immediately, putting a hold on the whirlwind of his younger nephew, but not the pure giggles that were falling out of him.

"Good morning there," Killian muttered, heaving Brennan up in his arms until they met eye to eye. "Now, you're going to be extra good for Uncle Killy and Auntie Em, aren't you, Brennan?"

"Brennan wants to swim." Connor's quiet voice brought Killian's attention towards the older Jones boy to see his head pop up from Ruby's shoulder. " Mommy said we can swim, Uncle Killy."

"Swim! Swim!" The mantra was followed by another set of giggles from Brennan.

"I'm sure it'll be hot enough to do just that, Connor," Killian assured him. The smile that crossed his face was genuine while thoughts of capturing the soulful blue eyes of the preschooler came to mind.

"Well, I guess we have part of our day all planned out," Emma sighed. She moved then, making her way over towards Liam and Ruby. Arms held out, it was easy to tell that it was Connor that had her attention.

Connor didn't show the least bit of apprehension over slipping into Emma's arms over his mother, the smile of his face small but happy.

"We have to thank you two again," Ruby sighed, her own gaze watching the way Connor easily transitioned from her to Emma.

"Ruby, we're family," Emma reminded her, shutting down any need to hear more gratefulness coming from her. "We're happy to keep the boys so that you two get to have a free day."

It was Ruby and Liam's turn to share a smile.

"Well, at least let me take these bags up to the bedroom for you." Liam was already turning as he said it, the boys' bags sitting on the floor behind them.

"Leave them," Killian told him. His attention waned from his brother, turning fully to the squirming and insistent toddler in his arm.

"Down. Down."

It only took Brennan saying it twice before Killian did as he requested.

"Are you sure?" Liam asked, sounding wary at doing so.

"We'll get everything up to Henry's room." Emma was the next to unload a child. Most likely at the request of Brennan, who had quickly found his way up to her side. "We told you to drop the boys off early so that you could get an early start, remember? There's no reason for you to put off your day any more than you have to."

Killian watched both boys run off, heading back the way that Brennan had once come from.

"Don't worry." He looked back up to see the shared look between Liam and Ruby. "They'll be okay when we all meet up for tomorrow's festivities."

"I think… that's our cue to leave, my love," Liam murmured quietly to Ruby. His hand swept across her back, pulling her closer.

"Well, let me just say goodbye to the boys," she said, sounding a bit reflectional about the whole deal.

Killian's lips turned up as he tracked Ruby's steps, meeting both Connor and Brennan halfway. Then his gaze went on a search for his wife.

He liked the smile on her face, the light in her eyes. It was only the way her fingers slipped over her bare arms as they lay across her chest. He wondered what it did to her, to see Ruby kiss her sons' lips, hugging them tight, and receiving all the love back… She had Henry. Did it remind her of the very earliest of days? Or did it leave her amiss? Did it leave her… wanting more?

"Are you ready to have fun with your Uncle Killian and your Auntie Emma?" Ruby asked the boys brightly. "I want you to be the best boys that you can be. Play nice. Have fun. And _don't_ drive them crazy."

Smiling as Ruby laughed with the giggling boys, Killian searched out Emma once more. The smile was still intact. The caress of her skin was still there.

"Connor, you be a good big brother and watch out for your little brother," Liam said firmly, suddenly meeting the rest of their small family in the middle of the room.

Connor, oh Connor! Killian loved the firm nod and sweet promise he made to his father, assuring him that he would be a good big brother and watch out for Brennan.

They were working towards the first, so how selfish was it of him to want to have this same conversation with his son? He'd come into this world as the little brother, but it didn't mean that he couldn't be a big brother as well. He wanted this conversation. He wanted… at the very least, he wanted two more children in addition to Henry.

"Okay, you guys know their routine." It was the firm Mommy that Ruby was giving both him and Emma now.

It put another smile on Killian's face. He glanced down at the scene of goodbye hugs and kisses for daddy before turning his attention back to Ruby.

"I know that you've planned some fun and exciting things for the boys, but it's still important to keep their schedule in mind," she continued. "Naptime is a must if you want to avoid crankiness. Their lunch and snack times are also important to keep in mind. I know it'll be tempting to let them go crazy today, but then you'll… have Brennan at an even higher tempo than he normally is."

The pounding of sneakers accentuated her point as he was off and running again.

"So be mindful of the sugar intake, okay?" Ruby took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "You know they're good sleepers, but their monitor is also in their bag. They know the routine of sharing Henry's bed, but just in case they wake up in the middle of the night and call out for you, you'll be aware."

"You're right, Ruby," Killian assured her. "We know the routine."

"And we'll stick with it," Emma added.

Killian saw the smile cross his wife's face, something genuine as she addressed the cautious mother Ruby had turned into.

"Thanks for the lecture," he said, slowly lifted an eyebrow his sister's way. "We've got this. You've said your goodbyes to the boys, they've no issue with your departure. It seems as if your presence is no longer needed."

Ruby's smile was less convincing.

"Thanks again, guys," Liam offered, taking hold of his wife's hand and bringing her close to him. "We really appreciate this."

"We do," Ruby sighed, letting him lead her back to the door. "Goodbye, boys."

Again, the contrast between the two showed as Brennan made circles around Connor, who stood still as he watched his parents walk out the open door.

"Bye bye, Mommy." Damn, it tugged at his own heartstrings. "Bye bye, Daddy."

It was the only goodbye they got before they were out of the house, first Ruby and then Liam. Killian placed himself at the door after them, watching for only a moment as they made their way off of the porch. Then he closed the door behind them, shutting out the heat of the mid-morning.

"Are you hungry?"

Killian turned around in time to see Emma place a hand in her hair, flipping it out of her face before looking from the boys to him.

"The boys have eaten, but if you're hungry…" She left it up to him with a shrug of her shoulders.

Killian lifted his chin, a slight smile gracing his lips.

"I'll take the boys with me as I get their things upstairs," he told her. "Perhaps by the time breakfast is ready, young Brennan here will have a bit of the excitement of being here out of his system."

Seeing the raise of Emma's brow, he wasn't expecting the outstretched arms of Brennan attacking his lower half in a hug. He hadn't expected the scruff of tiny shoes climbing up his leg until…

Killian lifted his nephew into his arm, returning the silly smile that Brennan gave him.

"I'll call you when I'm done then," Emma said lightly, already turning towards the kitchen.

Killian watched her for only a moment before being pulled back to the matter at hand.

"Okay, Connor."

His head popped up, his blue eyes meeting Killian.

"I'm grabbing the bags," Killian told him, leaning over to do just that.

"Yeah, Uncle Killy?"

He lifted his chin towards the staircase. "You head on up, and I'm right behind you." The bags, for all intents and purposes, weren't all that heavy. Luckily so, with the extra weight of Brennan in his other arm.

"Okay." Connor said it as he turned, his feet moving quickly towards the staircase.

Killian smiled as he watched Connor take the steps on with both hands and feet, making quick work of the steps.

Yes, definitely good and hands-on practice for the near future.

* * *

She looked beautiful. She looked… radiant.

It was her laugh that had caught his attention this time, turning Killian's head away from the Connor and the bucket of sand that would soon make a castle.

Emma glanced his way, her mouth gaped open and her eyes shining. She was busy with an active nephew of her own, Brennan hanging practically from the tips of her fingers as he splish-splashed his way across the shore. He looked tempted to take her farther into the body of water, letting it slip past his ankles and possibly reaching… Well, knowing Brennan…

It didn't seem to faze Emma. Not enough to pull him back. Not enough to stop the joy that Brennan seemed to be having. It was possible that she was having just as much fun, splashing around with the two-year-old. If that was the case, then… Killian could understand that. He could understand it very well.

She looked gorgeous in the one-piece bathing suit, patriotic through and through, the red, white, and blue of catching and accentuating every damn curve of her body. It was truly a toss-up, his thoughts. Did they stay on the fact that she completely blew his mind at the ease and gracefulness of her beauty, or did his thoughts turn towards the other marvel: watching Emma Jones and her interactions with a child, loving and appreciating every moment of it?

Killian chose the latter…

Gone was the stiffness, the layers of whatever she liked to hide herself behind. (He knew she had layers. He had always prided in the fact that he was able to get underneath them. There were still some that he couldn't wait to peel away.) Left in its place was a carefree Emma. What was left was a woman, free of her inhibitions, while she held on more firmly to the hand of the toddler and leading them another foot away from the surf.

She was a good aunt. Killian knew how lucky he was to have found a woman who loved his family just as much as he did, and Emma loved his family. _Their_ family.

He wanted to give her more. He wanted to expand what they had already created. He wanted to give her a child of her own. A child that would be slipped into her arms that she could hold and love for as long as she wanted to. That's what Killian wanted. He wanted everything that they'd had today with Connor and Brennan to not be something that was borrowed, but something that was all theirs. He wanted… Bloody hell, he wanted their family.

Killian glanced down at Connor, coming in contact with the brown head that was bent over as he packed more and more sand into his pail.

Would Liam and Ruby wonder if he and Emma had slathered enough suntan lotion on their boys before making a day partially at the beach? Would they wonder just how far Emma would take Brennan out in the water before she turned them both back around and headed back to the beach? Would they wonder how long was too long to watch a fireworks display out on the front porch of their house?

The questions weren't meant to be demeaning. Killian knew that both Liam and Ruby trusted them with the boys' lives. He knew that they wouldn't look to anyone else before Killian and Emma to take the best care of the them. It didn't stop…

It didn't change that these boys… These boys were not their boys. They were their nephews, spending a day with them. They were not theirs.

When _would_ it be their turn? He tried to convince Emma that eight months wasn't too long to worry. It didn't mean that their chances weren't good. It didn't mean that they couldn't have their own. It didn't mean that they wouldn't have their own.

He just wanted to have their own. It wasn't about being worried. It wasn't even about being envious.

"Killian!"

His name brought his head around again, turning to look at the sight that Emma and Brennan were.

"Take a picture, okay?" she called out to him just as she pulled Brennan into her.

Brennan's squeal came through a wide-open mouth, his own dark hair spiking all over his head as he shook it.

Killian turned to the bag sitting away from him and pulled out his cell phone. Sliding his way through to the camera, his eyes slipped back over to the two, seeing Emma grab up the lad and swinging his legs through the air.

He bit down on his lip, keeping the grin at a minimum. It was her though. He knew that she had called for a picture because of Brennan's sheer delight of playing in the surf, but… It was her. It was all her…

"Uncle Killy?" Connor called from next to him.

"Aye, Connor?" He murmured, finding the camera before looking at the boy.

"It's ready," Connor informed him, beginning to sit up on his knees, preparing to tip the pail over and make the next foray into castle-making.

"Just a second," Killian said. "I'll take this picture of you brother and aunt, then will start making our tower. Okay, Conner?"

He gave a quick nod as he turned his attention completely back to the sand, taking a small bite of his lip.

It brought a smile to Killian's face. His gaze slipped back towards the two out in the water. He watched his nephew as his toes dipped into the water before pulling him up farther into Emma's arms. Then he looked at his wife. Bringing the phone up, it was her smile, her eyes, her _everything_ that he captured first. She wouldn't like that, he thought. The camera focused again, this time on the both of them.

It wasn't the same as a drawing. It wasn't the same as capturing her on paper with pencil, but there was something about that picture. Something that he really liked.

"Got it?"

From far away, Emma called out the question, raising an eyebrow his way.

"Got it," Killian called back.

She nodded her head, her smile wide as she placed Brennan back on his own feet.

He could have watched her for a moment longer, could have let his gaze linger. Licking at his lips, Killian placed the phone back into the bag. He turned his attention back to his older nephew, turning back to the task of building a sandcastle worthy of the Ninja Turtle that sat on a beach blanket not too far away from their working site.

"Okay, you ready?" Killian asked.

Connor's hands were already on the pail when he nodded.

Killian smiled again, placing his hands over Connor's. It was a joint effort, the flipping of the pail. Small hands underneath the larger pair. Just like that, with a firm hold, the pail flipped, leaving the most perfect tower for their castle.

* * *

He didn't expect such an easy night. Knowing Brennan, having experienced Brennan on many occasions, he hadn't expected to find the lad practically passing out in his arms.

Perhaps it was all for the best. From their seats on the back porch, the fireworks display they were being treated to was nice for July third, but wasn't the spectacle he had expected. He didn't think that had anything to do with the open-mouth, lolling head of the toddler laid out on him.

"He's out like a light," Killian murmured, lifting Brennan's arm a few inches from its resting spot and watching it fall limply back into place.

"Connor's been down for a while now," Emma said.

Killian turned his attention to the pair sitting on the opposite end of the porch. They were bathed in darkness, choosing to not turn on the outside light in favor of a better showing. Emma was a mere silhouette.

A streak of something bright shot up into the sky, leaving a trail of gold in its wake. It was followed by a succession of pops of something else lighting up the sky in the distance.

"I think he missed most of it," Emma continued, her eyes lifting up to watch the night sky.

"I think we tired them out," Killian said lightly.

She looked at him then, sharing an easy smile until… it wasn't easy. There was something about the barely there change in the lift of her lips. What was she thinking?

He was missing something, wasn't he? Emma's mood had been all over the place as of late. Emma, herself, had been all over the place. What he'd just seen could sum her up: the easiness, until it wasn't anymore. Her need to pull away had been disconcerting. What made her do it, though?

He tried to not let it seep into them. He needed it to not affect who they were. He knew he needed to be there for her. It was only… would she let him? Not always… What he wanted… was to focus on this moment right here.

There was something about the way Connor lay in her arms. There was something about seeing how she cradled his head in the crook of her arm and how all the innocence and trust of the little boy let him rest just so.

Killian let his eyes fall over every part of her. He let his eyes drink in the sight of his wife. She would be a good mother, he knew. Damn, she was already a great mother. What he had to correct was that he would love to watch her be that amazing mother to a child from birth, to watch her mother _their_ child from birth.

He consciously stopped himself from taking in a deep breath, stopping himself from any outward physical change.

"I'd have to say that it is time to get these two off to bed then," Killian told her.

Emma smiled again, her hand coming up to slip over Connor's cheek.

"I think so, too."

Killian took only another second to watch her. Then he moved, lifting himself and Brennan from the chair.

"I have them," he told her as he watched her begin to move as well.

Emma's eyes slid up to his. "Are you sure?" She looked reluctant to relinquish her hold on Connor when Killian made his way to her.

"I'm sure." He bent over, keeping a firm hold on his younger nephew before slipping his other arm around the older one.

"Okay," Emma sighed. This time, her smile was small, a sign of wonder written all over her face. "Does that also put an end to our night as well?"

The two loads weren't that heavy, even when put together, but the weight felt good.

"Sounds good to me," he murmured softly.

Emma moved then, going to open the door wide and letting Killian go in first.

"You take care of stuff upstairs, and I'll clean up a bit down here," she instructed. "It looks like it'll be an early night for us."

An early night…

It wasn't as if they were few and far between, but Killian had an incredible need for some alone time with his wife. That was the reason for the quick sweep of the back of her from head to toe and back again.

He followed as she lead the way, his tongue slipping over his lip as they made their way from the dining room and into the kitchen.

"I'm sure I won't be long," he told her. "I'll be down to help as well."

She turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Okay," she breathed. Her eyes falling over him as well.

Killian pursed his lips this time, walking past her as she made her first stop in the kitchen. It was bedtime for the boys. Soon, at least he was hoping, it would be bedtime for him also.

* * *

"Today was really amazing, don't you think?" Emma sighed, slipping onto the edge of the bed. She dropped her chin to her chest and rolled her shoulders, perhaps shaking off everything that had made up that amazing day.

"I do," Killian agreed with a short nod.

It was difficult taking his eyes off of her as he climbed into the bed from behind her. Giving in to the idea that there wasn't a reason to take his eyes off of her, he watched her lift both arms, stretching her muscles, and the way she rotated her head first left and then right.

"And the boys did too, right?" Emma pressed her hands into the mattress and turned her head towards him. "I mean, they didn't seem to miss or pine away for Ruby or Liam. At least I didn't get that impression."

The way she angled herself on the bed left her breasts in a gorgeous profile, Killian realized, his eyes lingering for only a moment.

"No," he assured her, shaking his head. "I don't think they missed their parents. They had great time."

Emma blinked her eyes, her soft pink lips parting just so, and gave a single nod of her head.

Bloody hell…

They were nearing the end of her fertile period once more. It was the reason why their early morning activities before the boys had gotten there had taken place. They had attempted to make a baby that morning. It didn't quell the urge in him now. It didn't take away from the need that was swelling up inside him.

Killian wrapped his hand around himself and pajama bottoms quickly, holding for just a moment as he watched Emma back her way up onto her side of the bed. As her own nightshirt rode up as she moved up the bed, seeing only a sliver of the nude-colored panties almost put his hand back there.

He wanted it to happen. He wanted her to get pregnant. He wanted that part of life that he knew they deserved. What it seemed as if _she_ needed… was for it to happen now. For that reason, he wished like hell it would happen sooner rather than later.

He also just wanted her. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her, listen to her cute hiccups of his name, listen to her soft murmurs that turned into cries. He wanted her.

What he didn't want, and he hated that his mind went there as they both slipped under the single sheet that covered the bed, was the devastating rejection that he'd experienced… a month ago.

Killian spied the hand that laid on top of the sheet as Emma moved to get comfortable. He moved then, sliding down on the mattress as he picked up that hand and brought his lips down to it. He pressed a kiss there, closing his eyes and lingering to take in her scent at such close proximity.

It was easy, and natural, to let his mouth run up, over her wrist and up her arm.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked quietly.

There wasn't a hint of apprehension in her voice or in her muscles. She wasn't admonishing his kisses or his caresses.

There was a part of him that thought perhaps it wasn't only a lack of admonishment. There was a part of him that thought that he was welcomed.

Killian rotated her wrist slowly, taking the opposite path down her arm this time.

"Remember when you said that I was insatiable, love?" He looked up at her, planted a final kiss at her palm, and then let go of her hand. His gaze stayed on her as he fell flat on his back.

Emma bit her lip instead of answering. Her green eyes sparkled as he took hold on her hand in his own once more. This time, there was a gently nudging, a suggestion for her to come closer.

She did come closer. It was with a tilt of her head and a squint of her eyes as she moved. The sheet rustled underneath her movement. He loved that tilt. He loved how the squint became cutting as she found herself sitting on her heels beside him.

"I think you're right," Killian agreed with her thickly.

This time, there was a quiet hum that came way of an answer, the smile following only slight.

His own eyes widened on her every move. He held his breath as she finally swung her leg over his side and settled on top of him. She was a dream. A dream that he almost pinched himself to make sure she was real. Instead, he slid his hands on her waist softly, following the gentle curves on her body. Not only was she a dream, but she was his dream.

"Connor and Brennan?" Emma whispered lightly, her hand falling down onto his chest even as she mentioned their names.

"The monitor is on and is sitting right there on the nightstand," Killian pointed out. It wasn't only her hand that stilled his own on her ribcage. Her quest to find a comfortable spot in her seat was gripping him hard. "We'll be able to hear them and they won't hear us." It was his turn to move, his fingers spreading wide over her stomach. He paused there, for just a moment. It was a conscious decision to not linger, to not risk her connecting that touch to something else (even when it was on his mind as well). His fingers slipped farther down, down until….

Emma nodded her head. "You're right."

Her eyes met his, a bit wider, and her nails scraped over his arm.

"Lift up a bit, love," Killian instructed thickly, the pure need for her growing to almost unbearable. "Just like that."

His hands made quick work of both the pajama bottoms and underwear, pushing them down and out of the way. He left the rest of the work to his feet, shucking at the clothes until they made their way to the of the bed.

"And now… just…"

Emma tilted her head, her eyes closing and taking a visible swallow.

It was tempting to close his own eyes. Tempting, as his fingers slipped over her delicate skin just inside of her panties. But the desire to watch her was far greater. Seeing the flush of her face, the pucker of those pink lips, the slight arch of her back as she moved in closer to him.

"Why do you get to be naked?" Emma asked with a rush of air, sounding perplexed at the thought.

His wife wanted to be naked with him…

At the end of her fertile period, when they had tried to conceive that morning, his wife wanted to be naked with him.

"We'll get you there, too," Killian promised, the words still leaving his mouth thickly.

She was warm against his fingers. She was more than warm, a silky wet heat already building up.

"Now?" Her question was almost a whimper.

When his wife had such a request...

Killian's brought his hand up to capture the back of her head, his fingers slipping into her hair. His opened mouth met hers halfway, locking together in a searing kiss..The hand inside her panties slipped around to the back, cupping her bottom and pressing her deeper into him.

It didn't change the state of her dress, but that didn't hinder much in the way her body hugged against his. A mere scrap of cotton…

He abandoned his hold on her head, gave in to the slow way her mouth sipped at his, and curved that hand in between their bodies. First over her belly. A brush of his knuckles across her navel. He shouldn't have. Shouldn't have let the idea of creating that life he burned to create with her enter his mind, but it had. For a second. His hand turned, rotating on its way down until…

Emma pressed her chest into his, lifting just so. It created more space. He could take advantage of that space, his fingers once again seeking that silky heat under cotton. His hand on her bottom gripped tight with the new angle.

He felt her stutter, her body stiffening and the hesitation of her kiss.

He'd thought of her all day, had struggle to keep _this_ off of his mind. What he hadn't let himself believe was that…

"Now?"

She would be receptive.

Killian's smile was quick before biting gently at her lower lip. It was supposed to be a tease, a way of taking back control of their kiss.

He lost control again as her hands slid over his shoulders at the same moment she grinded hard against him, hand and all. It was his turn to stutter, to nearly whine at the feel of all of her above him.

"Now."

It was no longer a question...

Killian's hand slipped out from in between them, coming back to meet his other hand and quickly and insistently grinded her against his once more.

"Bloody hell." He had to agree with her. "Now."

It happened in a flurry of minimal movements, the need to stay as physically close as possible while still ridding her of panties and sleeping shirt.

It was quick, filling the void, filling the need. Then... it wasn't quick. The need… was still there. A deeper need. A need for something much more. A need… that they were both willing to feed, nurture, grow.

He loved seeing _that_ need on her face, loved seeing the flecks of gold in her otherwise green eyes as they darkened slightly. Loved seeing the way her lips parted as his fingers brushed up against her uninhibited. Loved everything about… the way the came together.

* * *

Curled up with her back to his chest, Emma's breathing was even. A good sign. That thought put a grin to his face, laced with bravado. He took her position as a really good sign.

Killian sifted his fingers into the hair that slipped over her back, falling into the tiny crevice between them.

She was beautiful. Lovely. Surprising. And he was damned lucky to have her.

It wasn't always so easy. He didn't want to think about the parts that weren't easy. Not now. Not with her naked body flushed and spent in front of him. No. He would rather… press kisses to her shoulder. Soft kisses that wouldn't disturb her rest. A well-deserved rest after the day she'd had.

Killian's lips were on the move, slipping across her shoulder towards her neck. Light kisses. Soft. Barely there.

Emma's _Mm_ was just as soft, conjuring up memories of other sounds she'd shared not that long ago.

She turned suddenly, her back disappearing and her front pressing into him instead. Her head found the crook of his arm, cuddling up against his chest.

Was it him? It was probably him… He wouldn't kiss her anymore. He would leave her be. He would try to get some rest himself.

"Do you think we did it this time?" Emma's voice was a quiet murmur as she nuzzled her head deeper into the crook of his arm.

Her words froze him. Killian became all too aware of his thumping heart in his chest.

"Do you think we made a baby this time?" she asked, her hand slipping onto his chest before sleep completely won out.

She had a way of being so guarded sometimes. Killian knew that. She hadn't been so damn outwardly optimistic in… months.

That meant something. It meant something when, in a sleep-induced haze, she admitted the want, confess to the desire.

Sometimes he felt like he was in on this all alone. Or, at least, they were on different sides of the dream. But her words…

Killian felt the tightness of his lips, felt the frown crease his brows. He pulled his wife closer to him, held her tight in his arms.

"I hope so, love."

She was already asleep. She hadn't heard his wobbly and weak reply. She wouldn't remember her question, or the fact that it had been much easier to be honest and vulnerable in a sleepy state than it had been to do in the light of day.

Killian nestled close to her, closing her eyes and keeping close. He already knew that sleep wouldn't likely to come easy any time soon.


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: Okay, I'm now all caught up with AO3, so the updates won't be every day. The fic is almost done, though. There's a total of 16 chapters, with 2 epilogues.**

* * *

"So, Emma, would you like to share how you've been doing?"

She liked that the Dr. Hopper's question came out as casual as it had. There was a trust factor, a familiarity of it all, that made her feel ready to share.

"I've been doing… okay." She'd taken a second to think about her answer. _Okay_ seemed like a fairly truthful answer.

It was the barely there nod and the lift of the toe of his loafer that told her that she should elaborate.

Emma took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then released it.

"I mean…" What _did_ she mean? Her mind wandered across the weeks that had passed by, slowing at certain memories. Memories that ended up putting a tiny smile on her face. "Yeah, I've been okay."

"Killian?" Dr. Hopper's chin tilted at the question.

Emma's mouth fell open and her eyes darted over his face from across the small space between them.

"It's just the two of us… right now," she reminded him lightly. "We had a very good holiday not all that long ago. Things have been… Well, things have been really enjoyable. They've been really really good, actually."

Dr. Hopper moved, sitting up straighter in his seat.

"You've always had a great relationship and marriage, Emma," he voiced, his eyes squinting just so. "Your source of stress hasn't been that," he reminded her with a shake of his head. "So when you speak of things being enjoyable and really good, should I equate that to the root of one thing that you _do_ have worry about when it comes to Killian?"

She knew what he was asking her. She knew what he was getting at.

"We don't… We haven't… talked about it much," Emma shared thoughtfully. Her head tilted as her mind conjured up images of those past weeks between herself and her husband. "We're still trying." That fact put a cautious smile on her face. "We're just not talking about it. We're enjoying… being together."

"Enjoying being together is good," Dr. Hopper murmured, slowly recording something onto the pad of paper that balanced on his knee.

Emma opened her mouth, felt the tingle that had been flowing through her for a while now, and seriously debated on sharing.

She smiled again before leaning forward slightly.

"This could be the month," she shared softly. "I mean…"

Dr. Hopper looked back up at her, meeting her eyes with neutrality.

Wondering what that look really meant didn't faze her thoughts. "I _could_ be pregnant. Maybe." It was hopeful to her own ears. Why was she so damned hopeful? Emma lifted her shoulder in a shrug. "I don't know if I am, but to even have the _thought_ that I _could_ be?" Another smile. "I haven't had that in a very long time."

"Why not, Emma?" Dr. Hopper asked immediately once again, this time with more of a curiosity to his tone. "Why is this time different from other times that you've experience?"

His question gave her pause. It made her stop and think. She knew she had a way of being stuck in her head at times, but it was always different during therapy. She didn't want to be stuck in her head during her sessions. Dr. Hopper was another outlet, and one she chose to use as successfully as possible.

"Because... " It was almost hard to admit, almost too difficult to voice. "I'm not standing in the way." Standing in her _own_ way, she knew. Emma blinked her eyes once, then twice. "There's something about the environment that I've found myself in that… it makes my pregnancy feel possible. And when it feels possible, then it… doesn't feel hopeless. It doesn't feel… worthless. It doesn't…" The truth. "Make _me_ worthless."

It was Dr. Hopper's turn to blink. "You're not worthless, Emma," he said quietly. He leaned in closer to her. "Do you know that?"

The truth again…

"Sometimes." Her smile was small and involuntary, which in hindsight, she liked. "Most of the time. Like now."

Dr. Hopper nodded, leaning back in his seat and once again jotting down on the notepad.

"You've been very meticulous with dates, Emma," he said, diverting the conversation just a little. "When will you know?"

"If I'm pregnant?" Was she too optimistic? Optimism was never really her thing. "I'll know, for sure, in just a couple of days," she admitted, controlling the outward show of excitement.

He smiled up at her. "And what would it mean for you to be pregnant again?"

 _Everything._ Of course it was her first and automatic thought.

Emma took in a small breath, her eyes widening on the doctor in front of her.

"Even though it's possible, it's hard to let my mind go there and stay," she admitted another truth.

Dr. Hopper pursed his lips before asking, "Why is that, Emma?"

Why?

She blinked her eyes at that question and the answer that went along with it. "Because it hasn't happened yet." She shook her head. "It didn't happen when we were both excited in the beginning. It didn't happen when it took a lot more to be happy." She paused, her mouth hanging open. "So even though everything is amazing right now, I have to try to... reign it all in."

Dr. Hopper took a second to study her face. "What if you're not pregnant, Emma?" he asked quietly. "What happens if you're not pregnant this time?"

The immediate and twisting ache of her gut told her that she'd just failed at the task of being okay. Even when she had just admitted to needing to check her emotions at the door, she still felt the pang of hurt at his questions.

"If I'm not pregnant?" She felt herself swallow, letting that be her only physical reaction. "If I'm not pregnant…"

"This time, Emma," he added when she had not.

Emma couldn't muster up a smile that time. If she wasn't pregnant… this time… Specification didn't help. It didn't matter. She'd only experienced the one outcome, never the flip side to that. With Killian, she'd only known...

"It will be like every other time I wasn't pregnant, I guess." She fought the frown, fought the need to feel her stomach underneath her fingertips.

"That _has_ varied over these last ten months," he reminded her.

She didn't want to go there. There was a part of her that really didn't like the direction the conversation was going. But therapy wasn't about being easy, was it?

"True," she conceded quietly. "If I'm not… pregnant this time." Her eyes fell from one side of the wall behind Dr. Hopper to the other. "I'm not sure how I will feel." That was an honest answer, but it didn't tell her whole story. "I would love to be able to say that it'll roll off of my back and have it be some insignificant snag." She took in a deep breath and let her eyes slide right on him. "I'm not making that promise to myself."

It was a promise that she knew she wasn't guaranteed to keep if she'd made it..

If there was ever a time that she'd had her hopes and dreams dashed away…

"If I'm not pregnant after… having an amazing cycle of trying, as well as…" Emma paused because finishing that statement… was hard to conceptualize. "I don't know." She shook her head once, her eyes falling to a spot beyond Dr. Hopper. "Knowing me…" The possibility was there, wasn't it? Was ease going to play a part at all in her getting pregnant this time? Was it going to matter that her stress levels had been lowered? It wasn't, was it?

"You've had a fear that your pain of not being pregnant being powerful enough to spiral you into a deep depression," he reminded her honestly, as if knowing her thoughts. In a way, he did, didn't he?

Emma knew he wasn't saying it to make her dwell on the hurt. In her heart, she knew that…

"You haven't spiraled," he continued to remind her. "Your sadness and hurt is a normal reaction to everything that you have on your plate, Emma. Yet you have a fear of it swallowing you up into a void that you'll struggle to get out of."

"It's not that I want to spiral," she told him quietly. Lifting a shoulder, she asked, "I mean, who wants to spiral out of control?"

Dr. Hopper's smile was small. "Sometimes people like to spiral."

Okay, sometimes people wanted to spiral. _Okay_ , sometimes she had wanted to lose herself in that kind of spiral.

"I don't want to this time," she shared, not quite smiling back. "If this cycle ends without me being pregnant, I would much rather seek solace in my husband's arms instead of," she closed her own arms around herself at the thought of Killian, "spiralling into some deep sadness."

"You can seek solace in your husband's arms, Emma," he assured her quietly, his smile still there.

She found herself staring at him for a moment, quite a long moment. She wondered why it had to be voiced. She wondered why was it so important to hear the words. She knew the answers to those questions, though, right? Emma had found herself holding back on too many occasions. She had a tendency to _not_ share with Killian, even when it was the one thing she wanted most during this whole process. There had been parts of her that craved the idea of letting him know all the pain that crept through her body, letting his words and the feel of his body against hers take away some of that pain. There were always those other parts of her that wouldn't let her do it. There were such large chunks of her that had always felt like… she couldn't. She just couldn't.

That was the past. A rather close past, but still the past. Right now… she was in a good place. She had thoughts of everything going not only her way, but their way. For now, she wanted to concentrate on that fact. She didn't want to concentrate of the fact that is wasn't a fact that she would be pregnant at the end of this cycle. She would _not_ concentrate of the fact that she might not be pregnant at the end of this cycle.

"Do you feel up to making a promise right now, Emma?" Dr. Hopper asked, breaking the silence that she should have done.

His question left her curious.

"What kind of promise?"

He took her in, studied her features for just a moment.

"If you are not pregnant this time, will you promise to do that one thing that you want most to do?" Dr. Hopper asked. "Will you turn to Killian and seek solace where you know you will find it? With him?"

Was it a challenge? The way he looked at her, his eyes not piercing, yet the challenge was clear.

Challenges were her husband's thing. Maybe that was why he came to mind. Maybe that's why she put him there beside her and across from Dr. Hopper. Where the doctor's challenge was veiled in his gaze, Killian's would be frank, set, precise. He would accept the challenge. Again, that was her husband.

That wasn't Emma…

Dr. Hopper had just reminded her that, for ten months, she had been unsuccessful at getting pregnant. He'd just reminded her of how easy it was for her to shoulder all the pain of that and leave it for herself. Could she turn to Killian, even when that was truly the thing she wanted to do?

"I…" Emma felt the involuntary tilt of her chin, her mouth closing as she ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth.

It was scary, knowing that she knew herself so well. She knew her truth, knew the limitations of her heart and mind.

"No." It was little more than a whisper. Because, she feared, her mind would win the battle that her heart didn't want to lose, but would. "That, I can't promise."

* * *

The buzz of the lawnmower winded down from the backyard, signalling the fact that Killian was now all done.

Emma winced at that, her teeth biting down at her lip as she jumped up from her seat at the dining room table. Whatever Lily had been saying to her over the phone became irrelevant as pushed the chair into the table.

"Lily, Killian's done in the backyard," she cut in. "I'm going to have to go sneak back outside."

"You mean before he notices how long a trip in for a sip of lemonade lasted long enough for him to cut the entire yard?" Lily asked politely.

The question almost had Emma squinting once more.

"Something like that," she admitted. "Talk to you later?"

"Talk to you later, Emma," she said with a smile in her voice.

Pulling the phone from her ear, Emma disconnected the call. It slipped into the back pocket of her shorts just as she jogged her way into the kitchen only a room away. If he was in a good enough mood, then maybe a glass of lemonade would also help Killian overlook the fact that she had went into the house and had left the yard work up to him,

Anyway, she had done her part, she rationalized to herself. Yes, it was true that it was she who'd had dreams of a beautiful flowerbed in the front yard, right underneath the porch. Maybe it was the new homeowner in her who had thought that would've been a great idea. It turned out that maybe gardening wasn't her thing. Maybe yard work wasn't her thing. It wasn't as if Killian didn't enjoy it. He also had Henry to help…

Except for the summer. It was supposed to be her in the summer. Pulling weeds. Cutting the grass. Pruning bushes.

Emma poured the lemonade into Killian's favorite tall glass mug, the ice cubes clinking as they fell, the juice splashing cold until the mug was filled.

She'd gave him a half hour of her time outside. She had worked really hard! Hard enough to build up a bit of perspiration. Hard enough to need a break as he finished the front yard and moved on to the back. Then she had lost herself in conversation with her friend.

It was time to go back out now…

Emma didn't mind the housework. In fact, she absolutely loved that part. She loved having a partner in life again, sharing all those duties. Even when her partner in life was and would always be a bit more precise than her. She actually loved that about him. She absolutely loved that he had brought structure in her life. Before him…

She grabbed at the mug, leaving the pitcher on the counter, and made her way quickly for the back door.

The sun reached her skin the moment she stepped out, reminding her immediately of the central air she'd left behind. It wasn't quite the hottest day; the temperature was supposed to reach mid-eighties before the day was over and done with. Still, on top of yard work, it was warm enough.

"Did you disappear on me, love?"

Emma turned quickly, seeing Killian on the side of the house and making his way towards the backyard. He enveloped his bottom lip and raised a single brow with the question.

"I… brought you something to drink," she told him. Her steps were quick as she made her way down the porch. "Just in case you were as thirsty as I was."

He met her halfway, his steps more of a saunter and with a slight smirk covering his face. In the sunlight, his eyes were a lighter hue than normal. He ran his fingers of one hand through the the hair at the top of his head, the other hand reached for the mug.

"Sounds fair enough," Killian murmured, bringing the mug to his lips. He paused there, his eyes locking on her. "Or at least it would have if it hadn't taken you the good side of twenty minutes to do so." He smirked again before he gulped down the lemonade.

Emma narrowed her eyes, watching him closely.

"It was more like fifteen minutes," she corrected him lightly. Then she stepped away, turning her back to him and taking in the backyard. Changing the subject, she added, "You've done a great job out here."

"Yeah, we got a lot done," Killian breathed out from behind her. "I think the last task would be to trim the hedges. Other than that…"

Emma looked over her shoulder in time to see him lift the mug back to his lips once more. She turned, this time letting her gaze sweep across the expanse of the backyard.

It put a small smile on her face. They hadn't been there long; this was their first summer in their house. There was a feeling of happiness that washed over her though, as she looked at what they _did_ have, as she looked at what they _had_ accomplished.

"Part one of our day is over," Killian continued.

It wasn't the largest backyard, but it was a nice size that complemented the house well. She'd done rental houses before, but there was nothing she'd had on her own that could compare to what she had with her husband.

"Then we can move on to-"

"We should've done lawn furniture," Emma cut in. She lifted a single shoulder as she took in the area near the back of their property, shaded by not only their own tree, but Lily's as well. "Don't you think a nice table and matching chairs would look great out here?" She turned again, her eyes optimistic as she looked at him.

Killian's mouth slacked open, his own eyes shifting behind her.

"Well," he started slowly, his lips tremoring into a small smile, "I think there's definitely something that would fit quite perfectly in that knook." He looked back at her, his smile growing.

Emma returned his smile. She moved closer, her hand outstretching as she went.

"It's not too late in the season to remedy the issue," she told him, taking the mug and finding the lemonade about half gone. "I think I'll keep that in mind when I'm out shopping." She brought the mug up to her own mouth, taking a quick sip of lemonade herself.

Killian dragged his attention back to that spot behind her, blinking slowly once, then twice. His hand came up to slide over his bearded cheek before cupping his chin.

"As long as you let me know," he murmured quietly. "I've had my own thoughts on what to do with that area as well." This time, he turned quickly back towards her, his eyes crinkling in just the corners.

"Well, I'll let you know," Emma assured him.

Killian smiled again, grabbing at the mug once more and returning it to its rightful owner.

"Back to work now, yes?" he asked, the question tinged with humor.

Emma held in her sigh. "Yes, back to work."

Killian nodded his head, his hand coming to pat her hip and bringing him even closer to her.

"Then we can move on to the next task."

"Paying bills," she clarified.

"Exactly." His hand slipped up her hip, tightening at her waist for a quick moment before letting go.

If she was honest, it was no contest between which chore Emma thought was better to do on a hot July day.

She turned around, following where he lead.

Sometimes...

Emma watched his arm raise, watched as the mug was lifted once more to his lips. Sometimes it hit her how domesticated her life was. Sometimes she realized how happy that fact made her, Like now… Yes, right now…

Killian smiled her way, a dazzling smile that was just for her.

Even as the early afternoon job of yard work was coming to a close, she realized just how happy she truly was.

* * *

Maybe it was her fault. Maybe it was because she'd let herself be happy and more than content in her everyday life. That's what she would probably say to Archie in their next meeting...

Emma twisted her body, half-turning and finding herself even closer to the edge of the bed. It wasn't a… sick feeling, although it could lead to that. It was a discomfort and ache in her lower back. It was... a sign. It was _the_ sign. It was also _early._ Two days early.

She wasn't supposed to wake up with the threat of tears, but instead with the excitement that had built over the last two weeks of trying to get pregnant. Today was supposed to be about…

Emma heard the weight of Killian's footsteps from the other side of the room. He had awakened early. He had gotten up in preparation for this day, for her to get up and complete the ritual that they'd had for nearly the entire ten months.

"Emma?" She detected a hint of excitement in his voice. "Love?"

Emma dug the side of her head into her pillow as her entire body tensed in the curled position she had been in.

"You're awake." Excitement with a mix of hope, that was what was in his voice as he sat down on the bed from behind her..

She only wanted to lay there, for a moment longer at least. All she had was a moment anyway. Soon enough, she wasn't going to be able to ignore the truth any longer.

Killian's scent filled the space she laid in, the scent of soap, of shampoo, of the man himself. She blinked her eyes over and over until she finally let them stay closed.

"You're awake, aren't you, love?" The murmur came on the heels of the mattress giving under his weight, followed soon by his frame towering over her.

Emma's face scrunched up involuntarily. Why did he feel the need to crowd her right now? Why did he feel the need to be _this_ close? Of course, she knew the answer.

She opened her mouth to speak, only to find her mouth dry.

"I'm awake," she muttered softly.

She felt the way his hand moved over her, falling onto the mattress and trapping her there in between him.

Killian dropped a kiss onto her temple, something quick before he pulled himself back up.

"Good morning," he murmured back, his voice a gentle rumble that spoke of more excitement that he probably meant to show.

Emma wanted to shrink, to lose herself for at least a moment.

"Morning." It was as much as she could muster. _Good_ just didn't fit. Not now.

Two days early. Two days early…

She guessed that her body decided that it would be so much better to lose hope of being pregnant for even a moment more. What was the point of having optimism of the morning of test taking? No point, right?

The ache in her back was beginning to spread as her stomach cramped.

"What's wrong?" Killian's voice was still a murmur, still close to her ear. "What's wrong, Emma?"

She couldn't put off getting up any longer….

She shook her head, letting only a nondescript leave her mouth as way of answer. Her arm reached up between his as she began to roll to the edge of the bed. Emma shook her head again, deeper this time, and slipped from the bed without pulling the sheets away.

"Em-"

"I have to go to the bathroom," Emma rushed out, cutting Killian off before he could ask her the same question one more time.

She heard the bed give, heard when his feet hit the floor.

"Are you going to-"

"No, I'm not…" She could feel the way her heartbeat began to pick up speed as the words spilled out of her. "I'm not taking… a… a pregnancy test." She couldn't get to the bathroom quick enough. She would never be able to get into the bathroom quick enough. A moment to sulk, a moment to hurt in peace. That's what she wanted. She wasn't going to get that. "I'm not, Killian."

Emma's eyes widened on the floor as she made her way towards the bathroom, all ten fingers finding their way to dig into her hair and pushing it away from her face.

"Then… perhaps…" Killian's footsteps were louder as he appeared first next to her her and then in front of her.

Whatever he was going to say, whatever thought that had crossed his mind, seemed to go away as he whipped around to look at her.

"Hey." It was a soft murmur that left his mouth right before his slightly raised eyebrows lowered, and lowered some more. "Hey." And then...

Emma returned the frown, her fingers digging even deeper as she tried to control the need to widen her own eyes.

She knew the moment it dawned on him. She knew the moment that he had put two and two together. It was all in the quiver of his lips before the purse set in. It was in the minute lifts of his eyelashes as his gaze covered her features.

Emma felt the heat hit the back of her eyes. She sucked at her bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth and biting down firmly. Her hands dropped from her hair just as Killian took a step towards her. The instinct to side-step him took hold, her feet moving even before the thought fully hit her.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she muttered quietly. It was sheer determination that kept the tears away as she made her way to the door.

"Wait a minute, Emma." Killian's fingertips grazed her elbow as he bit out the words. "Don't go in there yet. Not until-"

"I don't want to talk about it, Killian!" she exclaimed, her voice a high pitch just as her eyes grew wide.

"That's not why…" He pulled ahead of her, making it to the bathroom door first and pushing his way through.

Emma watched with tight lips as she followed behind.

She shouldn't have followed so closely behind. She should have taken heed to his request. She should have let him go into the bathroom first. She should have let him go alone.

Killian's frame didn't hide the inescapable as he stood in front of the bathroom sink. His hands might have been silent, but the contents of the box that he'd picked up had been less than so. His eyes couldn't hide the sadness as the reflected in the mirror in her direction.

It was almost enough to make her crumble. Almost…

"You can slip that back into the cabinet, Killian," Emma murmured stoically. "I'm not going to need that this month."

"I'm-"

"I'm not pregnant," she said quickly, watching him as he swiftly turned around to face her. If she let herself focus on the truth and the reality of those words… "I've started my period, so I am _not_ pregnant." She shook her head even as he trained his features to be nondescript, the box hidden this time behind his back. "But I do need to get ready for work. So… do you mind, Killian? Do you mind giving me this time to get ready for work?"

The room went silent. Having spoken the only words that she could have, Emma fell silent. She waited for his response, waited for the affirmation on his part.

Killian's gaze took her in. The moment of silence grew, growing into this uncomfortable mood that didn't help with the pain that was seeping through her body.

"Killian?" she moaned, not knowing how much longer she would be able to hold onto her sanity.

"Okay, Emma." The concession was thick, but he did his best to hide the certain disappointment that she knew he was feeling. He moved then, his hand staying behind his back as he did so.

Emma closed her eyes, her head bending down and ignoring the way he passed by her.

"We should talk."

The gravelly whisper was too close to her ear, his body was too close to her own.

"Now?" She couldn't force her eyes open, but her head tilted at the absurdity of his statement.

This time, she heard the shift of his bare feet against the floor.

"We should talk," Killian whispered once more. "Not… not _right_ this minute, but-"

"Then let me… do what I need to do, Killian," Emma cut in once more. She forced her eyes open just in time to see him take a step back from her.

His mouth was tight and silent. He hadn't sat the pregnancy test back into the cabinet. The rattling on the contents came from behind his back as her moved farther away.

"I'm sorry, love." Killian shook his head, the words coming from his mouth had been solemn.

Emma followed where he lead, encouraging his exit. There was a part of her that wanted to ask what the apology was for. Was it for getting his hopes up high? Was it for setting out a pregnancy test when they had both been as sure as could be that _this_ time really was _the_ time? Or was he apologizing for the fact that she wasn't pregnant? There was another part of her that wanted, or needed, to dismiss the apology, to forget about it and everything else about that awful morning.

Her hands reached out towards the door, grasping and clutching at the side as Killian continued his backwards retreat. Holding onto that door was like holding onto a piece of herself. If she needed anything, it was a way to hold onto herself.

Shutting her eyes became automatic. The heat behind her them was even warmer now.

"It'll happen, Emma." Killian's murmur was less reassuring than she knew he'd meant it to be. "This doesn't mean it won't happen."

"I need to get ready, Killian," Emma whispered.

His feet crossed the threshold, taking him out of the bathroom.

"I'll be right here," he assured her quietly. "When you're ready, when you're done, I'll be right here."

Emma's head bobbed in a quick nod. Her hands slid across the door until her fingers grasped the knob. Then she closed the door, shutting everything out.

Well, not quite everything… She was still there, alone with the truth. She was alone with the fact that, for one more month, she had proved to failed at getting pregnant.

Ten months…

It took everything inside her to not slip down to the floor in the heap of pain and sadness that she now was. What she didn't stop, what she couldn't control, was the hot tears that slid down her cheeks. The dam had broken, and there was nothing that could be done about that.

* * *

"Where are you going?"

Killian's gravelly voice caused Emma's hand to pause just inches from the doorknob. She swiftly turned around, finding her husband staring at her. She saw the veil, saw how he attempted to hide away any telltale signs of hurt from his face. He wasn't successful, because she saw it in his eyes. She saw it in the twitch of his lips and the drop of his chin. She noticed the way the dish towel hung loosely from his left hand before his fingers rubbed into the cloth.

"I'm going to work," she finally answered as she blindly reached for the doorknob behind her.

Killian's eyes slipped away from her face and turned towards the door she stood in front of.

She saw the swallow that he'd taken.

"It's early," he reminded her thickly. "It's still early, Emma." He looked at her then, his gaze shifting once more. "We should… talk."

The thought instantly made her queasy. Her hand tightened on the doorknob and she took a step back, closer to her exit.

"You want to talk about the fact that…" Emma blinked her eyes, her head shaking from disbelief. "That I'm not pregnant," she finally got out.

The hurt couldn't be masked as well this time. Killian's eyes narrowed as his lips twisted into a frown. It was for a moment, a mere second, but she'd seen it.

"Not pregnant _this_ time," he corrected quietly. His eyes widened on her, looking her over as the frown returned once more.

Every month, it was the same damn thing. She was tired of hearing _not this time._ She was so very tired of hearing _not this time…_

"Right, Killian," Emma murmured, unable to keep from rolling her eyes as she turned around once more. "The point is that I'm not pregnant, and," she pulled at the doorknob until the door fell open, "there is nothing else to talk about." She shook her head again as a familiar ache began to setting in her chest. "I'm going to work."

God, she had dealt with all those feelings and emotions upstairs! She didn't want all of those things rising back up inside her once more. Not now.

Emma heard Killian's strong footsteps from behind her, coming her way.

"Emma, wait." His voice was just as strong as his steps…

She didn't want to wait. She didn't want to deal with the sadness or the apologies that were certain to fall from his mouth.

Emma's fingers tightened around the knob just as Killian's hand slipped around her waist. As his fingers found their way to her stomach, the ache began to grow tenfold, a throbbing pulsating throughout.

She didn't want to crumble. She didn't want to go back into that space where she'd been only minutes before…

Emma let him turn her, both hands now finding her waist and then her back. She let him pull her against him and let him hold her tight. She let him bury his face into her neck and stay there.

It wasn't easy, but she refused to let tears shine in her eyes again. It was the feel of him… It was almost too much. But for a second…

Emma's fingers clutched at Killian's shirt, holding on to him as a lifeline. Just for a second. Just for a moment. It was in that moment that she let go, let herself grieve with her husband. The word wasn't too strong. It was just right. _Grieve._

Hadn't she been so sure? Hadn't she let herself believe that this time was truly _the_ time? It was all to no avail, because she clung to her husband, as empty as she had always been.

"Emma… love." The nuzzle became deeper, Killian's hold on her tighten. "I truly believed that this…"

His voice broke the spell, bringing her back to her own reality. She tuned out his words, her own head shaking, He was apologizing. She didn't want his apologies. There wasn't any way that he could hold her, there wasn't any word that he could utter, that would change the outcome. All he would be able to do… is remind her one more failure.

Emma let go of his shirt, choosing to push him away from her instead of prolonging the embrace.

"I have to get to work," she managed to get out, sidestepping him.

The loss of his warmth was something that she had to tune out as well. She couldn't concentrate on the sheer bone-deep chill that ran through her even though the sun was beating down on her from the other side of the opened door.

Breaking away from him, Emma lifted her fingers up into her hair, combing through the strands in a comforting way.

It didn't stop Killian.

"Emma, don't lose faith in us." The murmur came on the heels of him swinging her back around towards him once more.

His eyes held a hint of sadness, but this time his gaze had a hint of determination. Not hope, but determination.

"Just because it didn't happen this time…" Killian paused, his eyes lowering on her and his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. "It doesn't mean it's not going to happen, love." He shook his head, his grasp on her tightening. "We're going to have a baby, Emma."

He pressed himself closer to her, him mouth falling over hers.

It should have warmed her. The sincerity in his voice, his words, in his hold. It should have been enough. Emma wanted it to be enough. It was just that ten months of the same thing wouldn't let her. She couldn't believe him.

"I have to go now." It was listless and resigned to her own ears, but she couldn't muster up anything else. There was a part of her that wished that she could have the same hope that her husband clearly had. There was a much bigger part of her that couldn't see past the reality that was their life.

Before the sadness turned into something much more with him in front of her, she needed to step away. She needed to leave.

"Goodbye, Killian." Emma felt an ache in every bone that moved as she came out of his grasp again.

He didn't stop her this time, as she made her way onto the porch and down the steps.

"Goodbye, Emma."

She didn't bother to look back. There was no need in looking back. There was no need to see the same look of hope on her husband's face when she could only offer the opposite in return.

She wasn't pregnant. Month ten had been a failure in the long run. That was all that mattered and the only thing that she could take away from a month of trying to conceive. The end result was…

Failure.


	12. Chapter 11

She hated… Well, honestly, there were a handful of things that she could have finished the thought with at the moment…

Emma hated seeing another work day come to an end. They tended to linger, sometimes lasting well over the eight scheduled hours. Today, she wasn't lucky enough to have a four of five o'clock checkout time. No, packing up her bag with materials and going as carefully and meticulously as possible, she would be leaving right on time.

She hated the thought of what was waiting for her. She knew that Killian had plans of going over to Liam and Ruby's that evening. She knew that it was already a foregone conclusion that she would be joining them all for a family night. Either she would make it home just in time to tag along with Killian, or she would make the drive on her own. Either way, it was going to call for her to make conversation, to smile, to put up the front of everything being okay when… that was proving to be one of the most difficult chores to do. That thought seemed to deepen the frown that covered her face while she packed.

Emma hated the idea of feeling envy instead of hope and happiness when she came in contact with her nephews and their mother. She couldn't escape the fact that another one of those moments seemed destined to be upon her in the matter of hours. Sometimes… sometimes it was more difficult than other times. The way her brows slammed together at the mere thought just now was a clue as to how tonight would be. Was it jealousy? If only it was jealousy. Instead, the pang of sadness at seeing Ruby with the boys, seeing the boys with Ruby, left a pit in her belly where a…

The deepening of her frown was instant. So was hand fisting directly into the aching emptiness of her stomach. Honestly, Emma hadn't managed to get a firm grasp on how to stop the hurt from cutting through her. It was only becoming more difficult, not easier, with each passing month. She hadn't managed to figure out how to look at the boys, seeing hints of Killian himself in their nephews, and not let the lingering feelings seep out in her own features.

It wasn't _just_ Connor and Brennan. If it had been only Connor, Brennan, Ruby, and Liam… But it wasn't.

Summertime had brought families out of hibernation. At least, that's what it felt like. It wasn't just that theirs was the single house that didn't include a child at some various age. It was just that… It was just…

She hadn't been able to smile as much as she should have. When she drove through their neighborhood, she should have been able to smile at the preschooler who was outfitted head to toe in safety gear as she attempted to ride a bicycle while her mother hung onto the seat. Emma should have been able to smile at the overwhelmed eyes her neighbor sent her as his toddler refused to set a single bare toe onto the odd thing that is grass, favoring the idea of suspending his legs in mid-air as he made that point. She should have been able to smile at the game of hide-and-seek that had both boys and girls running from one lawn to the next, in search of either their friends or maybe home base. She should have been able to smile...

Lastly, but maybe most of all, Emma hated what day it was. Because once again, it was _that_ day. She had reached the point in the cycle of time that told not only her, but her husband, that they were in the window of time to attempt to conceive. Once more. It was _that_ time again.

As the seconds ticked away, as her work day dwindled into absolutely nothing, the magnitude of what awaited her began to fester way down deep to her core. The easy part of her day was coming to an end. What she was being left with was stark reality: it was time, once more, to merely _attempt_ to conceive their child.

Emma glanced down at the full bag that sat in front of her, everything now packed up and ready for her departure. She was alone, her thoughts being the only thing keeping her busy. Thoughts of a baby that never seemed to actually materialize into something real and tangible. It was in that moment, as she kept that single tear from falling down her cheek and collapsing her, that she did feel her heart break in two. It wasn't a million little pieces, but it was a fracture that she didn't know how to repair.

It wasn't only a hurt coursing through her body, but a growing sadness that had the possibility of being even more detrimental to her being.

* * *

 _Don't hate me, okay?_

 _ **That's a nice precursor. What is it, love?**_

 _Well first you have to promise._

 _ **Really?**_

 _ **I promise not to hate you.**_

 _I'm not going to make it to Liam and Ruby's._

 _ **What happened?**_

 _Honestly?_

 _ **Honesty sounds like a good starting point to me.**_

 _Honestly, I'm just not up to being around other people._

 _I'd much rather just go home._

 _ **Okay**_

 _ **What about your husband? Are you up to being around your husband at least?**_

 _You don't have to come home early. I'll just see you when you make it in._

 _ **I'll see you when I make it home then.**_

 _ **I love you.**_

 _I love you too._

Killian stared down at the text conversation, debating with himself over broaching the subject at this time and in this manner.

It had taken Emma a few days to come out of her funk once they'd found out she wasn't pregnant. Things had gradually gotten easier. It wasn't as if she'd opened up to him. She hadn't verbalized the pain that he knew that she was feeling. Sometimes… sometimes, he felt the need to bury his own pain. Even when he could acknowledge the fact that her pain would be different from his, perhaps greater than his, Killian still felt a distinct pain himself. Having faith in the fact that, one day, it would happen for them, didn't mean that every negative result beforehand didn't chip away at some part of him. One difference between them, he knew, was that it didn't stop the need or the hope for a fresh start.

They were back at the beginning of the cycle, the consuming cycle. They were on the cusp of ovulation, and another month of possibly getting pregnant. Tonight was the night. It was time to put the hurt and disappointment of the last cycle into the past. It was time to look forward to the prospect of being successful this time. And when that was what they ultimately wanted, to be successful this time, then it was a little bit easier for him to do so. Not so much Emma, he knew...

Did he mention it now? When Emma's mood was hard to distinguish through text messages, did he need to remind her of what day it was? Or was it best to leave it at _I love you_? Was it best to… hope for the best?

Bloody hell! If he could have anything in the world, it would be to have his wife open up to him wholeheartedly and without the need to hold back. Killian had always been good at reading her. From the moment she'd been able to trust him and love him, and believe in who and what they were, Emma had welcomed that fact. It was only with the attempt at getting pregnant that it had changed. It was the only thing that he'd ever felt caution towards. The fact that they were nearing a year wasn't helping anything. With every passing month, it was becoming more and more of a struggle. It was a struggle that he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to ignore to let her figure out on her own.

Bloody hell, indeed.

 _I will be making it an early night and coming home to you._

 _I want to make a baby with you, Emma._

There was a part of him that instantly regretted the texts, a part of him that, perhaps, would have taken it back. The optimism in his eyes turned doubtful for a moment. They'd texted about honesty and being honest with one another. His words were his truth, and a truth that he wanted her to know. Perhaps they were a truth that he needed her to know. So...

When she didn't answer back immediately, Killian wasn't surprised. It would be easy to absorb the hurt of Emma's silence, a silence that represented the need to bury and keep hidden the fact that they were trying to get pregnant. Her silence wasn't a deterrent though. He'd let her know that she was in the forefront of his thoughts. He'd let her know that he hadn't given up on their dream. He was far from giving up their dreams. And one day soon, he knew he would be rewarded for having enough faith for both him and his wife.

* * *

Killian raised his fist towards the door to knock, only to leave it in mid-air as the unmistakable sounds of children came from the backyard. Pulling his hand back down, it slipped inside his pants pocket as he turned on his heel.

He took the steps one at a time, slowly making his way off of the front porch. It wasn't a surprise that Connor and Brennan would have at least one of their parents tethered outside instead of inside of the house.

"Killian."

He'd barely made it down the last step before the sound of his brother's calling out to him had him swivel his head back around.

The door pushed open, Liam stepping out on the porch with a smile crossing his face.

"I saw you come up," he told Killian with a sigh. "Where are you off to?"

Killian waited for Liam to meet him on that last step.

"I heard the boys in the backyard," he answered, taking his brother's hand in a firm clasp. "I was on my way to meet you guys there."

Liam's smile seemed to grow. "Ruby's back there with the boys." He turned then, his eyes scanning the distance of the front yard. "And Emma?" He raised a brow towards Killian on his way back.

Killian's smile was slight compared to his brother's. "She's not going to make it tonight."

Liam's chin lifted just slightly, his eyes crossing over Killian's face.

"Everything okay?" he asked lightly, a hint of caution lacing his voice.

An answer didn't fall immediately from Killian's lips. Instead, his mind went back to the unanswered text message from his wife. His mind went straight back to the words that she _had_ used.

"Everything's okay," he assured his brother, just as lightly.

Killian wondered if the turn of Liam's head as they headed across the lawn had anything to do with wanting to ask something else.

"Okay."

It was left at that, a tacit agreement made by the pair.

There was a small part of Killian that wished he had the words to articulate what was going on in his head. There was a larger part of him that was happy that since he didn't have the words, Liam was okay with that.

"Ready to see the boys?" Liam's question came on the heels of his hand clasping Killian's shoulder, pulling him closer.

Killian's lips turned up into a smile, listening once more to the happy sounds coming from the backyard.

"Aye," he murmured with a short nod. "I'm thinking it'll do me a world of good."

"Aye, little brother." There was something all-knowing in the blue of Liam's eyes. "I was thinking the same thing."

* * *

He expected her to be in bed. That's what Killian had imagined, even as he had slipped the key into the keyhole and opened the front door. Even though it was relatively early, he had expected for his wife to be hidden away in their bed, under a single sheet, and at least trying her damndest to be asleep by the time he made it inside the house. If she had been asleep, if her day had been so draining that she had sought solace in bed, then he would have let her be. He would have forgotten about the fact that they could even try to make a baby that night.

Emma wasn't in bed…

"Hello," he greeted her, looking at the sight she made on the staircase as he closed the door behind him.

There was something about the seeing Emma in her bare feet, something that had been and would always be attractive to him. She knew that it was a weakness of his, didn't she? Combined with the almost-dry hair that fell over her shoulders and down her back, Killian was suddenly overcome by an attack of feelings that gripped his chest.

She didn't quite smile. Instead, her eyes slid across the whole of him as she twisted her body so that she was facing him. Her hand slid down the banister just as her chin tilted downwards.

"Hi." The one word slipped out of her mouth quietly.

He had caught Emma making her way back upstairs. It seemed as if she had broken out of routine for the evening, having already showered and dressed for bed. The warm nights had her dressed in her red Minnie Mouse tank and boxer pajama set, showing off every gentle curve and more than enough of each toned limb.

Perhaps it was the fact that it had been… nine days. It had been nine days since everything had been perfect, when hopes of Emma being pregnant had been at the highest of levels. It had been that long ago since they had both been more than sure that everything was going their way. It had been that long ago since he had made love to his wife. _That_ was a misjustice he was more than ready to rectify, if…

"I was heading upstairs." Emma's head tilted, the sudden downward tug of her lips noticeable for less than a second. "Unless you needed anything from me down here."

Killian shook his head. "No, nothing down here." He took a step away from the door as he watched her take a backwards step up.

The step up became a full twist, Emma turning around and taking two more quick steps. She was halfway up the staircase when she twisted her head back to look at him.

"How was your day at Liam and Ruby's?" she asked quietly.

"Fine," Killian assured her. His one step of progression became one of regression as he made his way to lock the door. "They asked about you, but-"

"Sorry about that, Killian."

He turned back towards her, finding her hands laced in front of her.

Her apology caused his brows to furrow. "No apology necessary, love."

"I just…" Emma paused, her lips pursing gently and a single shoulder raising in a shrug.

"You already told me, love," Killian reminded her softly. "How was your day home?" His lips turned up, producing a small smile. "And having the house all to yourself for a bit?"

Emma's smile was even smaller than his. "I got a little work in, and... " Her eyes slid away from him, finding something behind him to lock onto.

He wondered where her thoughts had taken her. Not just in this moment, but before. Where had she been in those moments when she had seen his final text messages.

"That's about it," she finished with a whisper. This time, her gaze found him again. "It was quiet. It was… good."

It brought another smile to Killian's face. "Well, I hope my presence doesn't detract from your good day." He moved then, stepping away from the door and making his way into the house.

Emma countered his movement with a step of her own.

"I'm happy you're home."

Watching Emma make her way up the staircase, Killian chose to believe her words and not the physical cues that were opposite of them.

"But since you don't need me, I am going to make my way upstairs," Emma continued before turning and doing just that.

"I'll be up in a minute," Killian said, letting his words drift up towards her. He watched the turn of her head, the short nod, and the steps that followed until she was out of view.

She hadn't mentioned it…

Neither had he…

It didn't change the fact that the night was upon them. It didn't change the fact that they were getting a fresh start.

They could make a baby. It was possible. Wasn't it?

Killian let his feet lead him, his mind on autopilot as he moved. Just a lingering check of the downstairs before…

His eyes traveled up towards the second floor, his ears straining for any sound of footsteps or movement from above his head. He hadn't taken the time to fully read her. Or Emma hadn't given him the chance to do so. He wasn't sure what her overall mood was, or would be in those upcoming minutes.

Killian took his time checking each room. Every door was locked, every curtain drawn, each pillow placed neatly on the couch, each dish properly shelved.

In the end, there was nothing left to do, no more inconsequential jobs to eat away time.

With a swipe of his thumb across his bottom lip, his eyes became transfixed on the staircase that would lead him to his wife. What he would eventually find there? Well, he was more than ready to find out.

* * *

She'd had the entire day to think on it. Or, more so, the entire day to dwell on it.

Emma wiped her hands down the front of her shorts as she craned her neck to look out of the bedroom door and into the hall. She felt the instant purse of her lips and could only imagine what she'd find in her eyes if she'd only turned to look in the mirror.

She'd had an entire day to dwell, but it didn't prepare her for the moment that was actually here.

Killian would be making his way up the stairs in no time. It wasn't a secret as to what day it was. It might not even be a secret as to how she felt about it.

The fact that Killian was taking as long as he was to make it into the bedroom only made Emma more nervous. She'd seen it in his face. Not that she'd needed to. His text message from earlier had been enough warning. Although, truthfully, she hadn't needed even that. He was just as knowledgeable of the date as she was.

That thought caused a slight frown to cross Emma's face.

Where was all the faith she'd had only a month ago? Gone. It was all gone. What was left was stark reality staring her directly in the face, by way of her reflection in her dresser mirror. That truth was that, for nearly an entire year, she had not been successful in getting pregnant. The stark reality was that, with every passing month, the hope of ever having another baby was only slipping away.

Her frown increased, and it was no longer only her thoughts that continued to bother her. She felt an ache take a firm grasp deep in her belly, causing her to clench those muscles in hopes of controlling it.

There was nothing that she was going to be able to do to change the situation. She was now currently ovulating. That meant only one thing. If only that one thing was sure to result in only one possible way. There wasn't a guarantee though, was there? It was that sole reason that she would have gladly skipped over this entire night.

Emma took in a deep breath, holding it for a moment as she turned her attention from her reflection in the mirror and to the bed instead.

She was ovulating…

Her fingers came up to either side of her head, spreading wide and sifting through her hair.

She was ovulating.

And it was already starting to hurt like hell, as every other failure began to creep up inside her.

* * *

Whatever apprehensive, fearful, or worried thought that had crossed Killian's mind seemed to disappear at the sight before him from the doorway.

She'd pulled her hair up into a ponytail. His presence had caused her to look up from her spot on the bed, showcasing cheekbones and white neck by the lamp light that only brightened the room.

His mind had pictured a sleeping Emma Jones, blanketed by a single sheet in the early summer heat. The reality was his wife sitting up in bed, her back supported by two pillows, and her knees slightly bent underneath the sheet that fell just over her hips.

Killian knew that his closest sketchbook was conveniently placed underneath his side of the bed. There was a strong pull to leave his spot against the door frame, grabbed up the book and pencil, and begin to capture that moment of sheer beauty as it was happening.

"What are you doing?" Emma's question also came with a change of expression, raising her brow, widening her eyes, tilting her chin…

Killian pushed himself away from the doorframe.

"Just looking at you," he murmured in answer.

He also pushed the thought of the drawing away. At least for now. There was something else that he wanted even more than capturing that moment. He wanted to live in it.

Emma turned her attention away from him, her head giving a single nod. Her knees came up more and her body began to slip away and down completely on the bed.

She looked beautiful like that, too. The hair in her ponytail seemed to all fall down on her left side, covering her shoulder. The single sheet claimed more of her body, covering most of her torso. It also cut quite the silhouette, clinging to the gentle curves of her frame. Flat stomach. He could change that. He wanted to change that.

Killian took in a deep breath even as his hands gripped at his shirt and pulled it over his head. His eyes fell on his side of the bed as turned the shirt outside in, snapping it once before folding it in half. For now, he left it on the dresser as he passed by it on his way to the bed.

The mattress absorbed his weight easily. He took no time in throwing his arm around his wife and dragging her closer towards him.

There had been time for apprehension. There had been time for indecisiveness. Now wasn't one of those times…

"I love you, Emma." It was a deep murmur before his lips fell on her cheek just below her ear.

He heard her inhalation of breath, felt it as her ribcage expanded.

"I love you, too, Killian," Emma whispered quietly. She looked at him then, her head turning until her green eyes met his blue ones.

Her words put a smile on his face, small and true. The arm over her stomach tightened, keeping her close.

Emma's sudden intake of break was accompanied by her hand falling over his arm. The green eyes that had met his only a moment before seemed to harden when they looked at him this time.

Killian knew what was going to leave her mouth even before she said it. It was in every one of her features, the need to turn this into…

He watched her lips part, watched the hesitation, yet blankness, begin to cover her face. Her voice filled his head, sounding forlorn and bleak. So he covered her lips with his own, kissing her softly and preventing anything from slipping from her mouth.

It was a soft kiss, a kiss that helped the negative thoughts stay away. It was a simple press of his lips to hers, and staying like that for just a moment.

He liked the brief moan he heard her breathe out, liked the way her lips parted underneath his. He liked even more the way back arched off the bed, pressing her body into his.

"Take eleven, right?" The dry question was whispered against his mouth before she moved away, slipping down and laying her head on her pillow.

 _Take eleven…_

There hadn't been a bitterness to her tone, but Killian knew it was there. There was probably some hurt mixed in, as well. Watching her, looking at his wife as the resignation plastered her face while she propped up a knee from underneath the sheet in wait, he felt a similar sting in himself.

 _Take eleven…_

"Let's just-"

"Emma?" He stopped her before she had a chance to begin. Because if those words had slipped passed her lips this time, if her need to push away from him this time was vocalized the way it had been before…

She hadn't responded to his text from earlier in the evening. She hadn't responded to the fact that they were back at this point in this ongoing cycle. She hadn't mentioned it when they'd met at home, had only vanished upstairs. And when he found her again, he knew that it had been the very thought on her mind. That thought had also began to sour her in other ways.

"What?" It was another soft whisper as she looked up at him. The raised knee wobbled back and forth as she eyed him.

He got it, the hurt. The despair.

"Let's make a baby, right?" Emma asked, seemingly giving up on waiting for a verbal response from him.

Even as her arms lifted up to wrap around his neck, even as she dragged him closer to her…

It wasn't for a kiss. It was nothing more than a means to an end.

 _Just get this over and done with…_

Killian felt the tug of the frown as he let Emma pull him down over her, but it was that past conversation, on a night similar to this one, where those words had fell from her lips.

He pressed his hand into the mattress beside her, trapping her between the mattress and himself. He watched her face as her hand left from around his neck. He listened to her soft and resigned-sounding sigh as her hand moved, finding the front of his pants and making a task of unfastening the button.

"Maybe next time, have this part taken care of too," she muttered quietly, making quick work of the zipper.

 _Just get this over and done with…_

Emma hadn't repeated the words, but the words she did use and her actions spoke volumes.

"Emma?"

Sometimes he wondered if she realized that she wasn't in this alone. Sometimes… he wondered if she knew that he wanted to expand their family just as much as she did. Sometimes he wondered… if she knew that it hurt him just as much as it hurt her that it had been eleven months of trials.

She did know, though, didn't she?

"What?" Emma asked, eyes wide once more as she looked at him.

And he looked back. Killian watched those green eyes, saw the hint of something hiding behind them, saw the pain and the need to continue to conceal.

He'd missed it before. He'd missed the cues that had said she was hurting. Not this time…

Emma was hurting. He knew the thought of failure was hanging over her. When there was nothing but failure, then why even try? It wasn't supposed to be about the hurt. It was supposed to be about the opportunity to succeed, to do it right this time.

It was about something else, too.

Killian's answer to her simple question came way of a lift of his lip.

"I love you." The three-word declaration left his mouth before his lowered his lips down to hers.

It was another soft kiss, one that lingered and left his teeth to nibble gently at her soft bottom lip.

He loved her. Killian loved Emma more than he'd ever loved anyone in his life. Perhaps that was why it nearly broke his heart every time she pulled away from him. Perhaps that was why he couldn't have her pull away from him now.

He loved her. He needed her. He needed… all of her.

Emma squirmed beneath him, tangling herself in the sheet that only she was under.

Killian almost smiled against her mouth. And then he did. A sad lift of one corner of his mouth. It wasn't quite a resistance she was putting up, but neither was it endearing or encouraging. It didn't extinguish the need he had for her, but it did leave a small ache in his heart that she hadn't responded more positively.

"Killian, what… are you…"

He blindly took hold of the hand that had undone the button of his pants and had stilled at his zipper. His fingers closed over her hand, pausing there.

"Slowing down," he answered matter-of-factly. Pressing his forearm into the mattress, he kept most of his body weight there as he positioned himself above her.

He felt her body stiffen underneath his, and he didn't think it was from the way he nibbled, kissed, and licked a trail from her ear to her neck.

"Killian, it's…" Emma let out a sigh of frustration. "I'm ovulating, remember?"

He wanted to melt away every bit of that frustration. He meant to melt away every bit of that frustration…

"I remember," he murmured into her skin. Under his lips, he felt her steady and strong pulse. "I know... that should be my main priority. My focus. But…" He pressed a firm kiss at her collarbone. "I hope you know that it's not, Emma."

This time, there was an involuntary-sounding intake of breath from her. She took advantage of the way he was positioned above her, twisting and rocking her own body until... she was laying on her side.

The loss of her underneath him caused Killian to sink down on the arm that had been holding him up, sinking into the bed. They lay face to face for all of a moment, eyes locking once more. Her thoughts were her own, her lips pursed and her eyes clear. He watched, as that instant disappeared, and Emma caved in her shoulders just as she began to turn again. This time, it was away from him, slowly and silently presenting her back to him.

It was Killian's turn to take in a breath, holding it in as he dug his head into his pillow before letting it out slowly.

He wouldn't have considered their time together so far to have been awkward. It was more so that he knew that Emma would have had a lot on her mind, just as he had. So when she turned her back on him… When she was silent, when she had nothing to say to him...

Killian didn't take it as an open invitation to hug her, to hold her close.

It was almost enough to make him turn himself, to flip onto his back and take solace in the sight of the stark white ceiling above his head. His head felt cluttered with a million thoughts, all of his wife. He didn't turn, but damn. Was offering the chance to turn an ovulation into something more than just an attempt at making a baby such a bad thing? Was it so wrong?

"Are you going to-"

He ignored her question, and tried to ignore the way her body curved back and into his from under the sheet. He knew what Emma was offering: her body. What wasn't at his disposal that night was her mind or her soul.

"I'm-"

Killian wanted his wife, all of his wife. He wanted her mind, body, and soul.

"You've been haunting my thoughts all day, my love," he shared with her honestly.

From her side of the bed, Emma gave a quick and short nod.

Killian felt the tug of a small smile on his face. His confession had been true, but how much did that mean to Emma? Did it even matter to her that his thoughts were only of her?

He eyed her from his side of the bed. There was an enticing amount of pale skin just in front of him, tall but hidden by her hair. His fingers came up to sweep away the thick ponytail, providing a better view for his eyes. Slowly, carefully, he lifted off his pillow, his mouth finding a spot, and pressing firmly against Emma's exposed neck.

He let his eyes close and his lips stayed there, breathing in her unique scent that was heightened by the not so long ago shower. He let his fingers twist around the strands of hair in her ponytail, opting to feel the silkiness caress his skin for just a moment longer. There was no change in her. No encouragement. No rejection.

"I wish I could say that it was all physical," Killian murmured against her skin, his lips hitting the cotton of her pajama top before sliding back up her neck. "I mean, it's quite possible that it could've been all physical."

His hand escaped her hair, leaving most of it to splay out on the pillow above them. His fingers replaced that loss with slipping over her shoulder and began a trek down the softness of her arm.

"My thoughts could have been just this: remembering what your arm feels like when I run my fingers over them," Killian shared quietly. This time, his teeth nipped at her neck just below her hairline, running gently over the skin there. "Or what it feels like to follow the curve of your waist, to your stomach... and then…"

He paused, though his hand followed through, the back of his hand caressing the underside of her arm on its way to her waist. It slipped under her top, holding onto her waist firmly before slipping over the flatness of her stomach.

And when Emma inhaled, when she attempted to turn towards him, Killian hugged his body closer to hers. His cheek laid against her shoulder, eyes closed, as his fingertips skirted against the underside of her bare breast.

"Killian."

She spoke his name, but it wasn't the whine and moan that he wanted. Instead, it was way of warning. He was close to falling under a spell that she didn't even realize she was casting. He needed her to be under it as well, to lose herself with him.

"No, it wasn't merely the physical, love," he murmured once more.

Killian's words were truthful, yet it didn't stop him from quickly grabbing the inside of her thigh and hiking her already close bottom snug against him. His hand went right back to her breast, filling his hand with its firmness and idly caressing over the nipple.

He'd planned on sharing everything. He planned on sharing how lucky he was to have her in his life, how happy she made him by being his partner in life, how much he wanted to make love to her and create a new being between them.

He was stunted by way she felt against him. Even through cloth in the form of panties, pajama shorts, cotton sheet, pants, and underwear, his mind began to get a little foggy at the feel of her pressed against him.

Not yet…

Killian swallowed, wetting his dry mouth as he rubbed his bearded chin against her shoulder blade and his fingers tweaked her nipple into a firm bud.

"Killian?"

Better, but not quite there yet. His name left Emma's mouth as an airy question.

"I know I told, I know I tell you, Emma," he whispered, turning his head said that his lips touched her back. "But I love you so much. You are my world, and I am nothing without you."

He liked her whine, though he knew that there was still a mixture of indecision wrapped up with pleasure. It was supposed to be all pleasure…

"I know, Killian," Emma whispered quickly. And then she was attempting to turn again, rocking her body into his.

His first thought was to enjoy the feel on her body crashing against his as he let every attempt fail. His second thought won out, letting Emma accomplish half her goal, with her ending up on her back.

"I-"

Killian was quick to react, both hands working together as he pulled the sheet down and her top up simultaneously. His head dipped down, his mouth opening and filling up with her breast.

He held back the moan that threatened to come out. His mouth busied away, licking, teasing, suckling… while his fingers caressed where his mouth wasn't. And then he did moan, his other hand palm-down against her pelvis.

"Killian?"

She'd said that next time he should come with his pants gone too. Well, he was now wishing the same sentiment.

"I'm-"

She was going to say it again… Even before the words were out, he felt her entire body stiffen, lying flat against the mattress.

"Ovulating." It sounded resigned. It sounded defeatist. It sounded… as if nothing else mattered. Emma was ovulating…

Killian lifted his head, swiped a quick lick over that nipple, and smiled at the involuntary reaction it gave instead of the one Emma probably wanted to outwardly appear.

"I know," he murmured, feeling his own involuntary reaction. He head dipped again, setting his sights on the all too long forgotten breast that hadn't received any attention."We also have all night, love. An entire night that would allow me to show you what you mean to me."

His entire body moved, returning them back to the same position that allowed him to be above her. His lips smoothed across the silky skin of her breast, his mustache gently marked her, until that nub beaded underneath his care.

Yet, she laid there, only her head moving from this way to that.

"We don't even have to do this," Emma sighed, unable to keep the frustration from tinging her voice.

 _Don't do_ this _, Emma._

It was the initial thought that entered Killian's mind. His hand moved from her pelvis, slipping over to grip firmly at her hip. A smile upturned his lips even as he inched up her body. A trail of kisses began at her chest, moving up to her neck, her chin, her lips. That kiss lingered, a brush of lips across her own closed mouth.

He felt the infinitesimal movement of her arm as it lay beside her. He didn't take it as encouragement for something more than a simple kiss. He did take it as an encouragement to not let her slip away from him.

Killian's hand left her hip, grabbing tightly at her own hand. His fingers slipped through hers, interlocking their hands together.

"I love your strength, Emma," he murmured against her lips. His eyes opened briefly, taking in the closeness of her cheeks, her lips, her nose.

"Do you now?" she asked quietly. Emma flexed her fingers, almost as if she was to pull away. She didn't. Instead, her fingers tightened over his, holding close.

"I do," Killian whispered back.

Her body writhed underneath his, a soft whimper following.

"Am I?"

It wasn't the whimper he wanted, the one that casted shadows of doubt.

"Yes, you are," he assured her.

Killian's mouth fell back to hers, opening hers with his own and kissing her deeply.

Emma dug her fingernails into his skin, and the whimper that left her throat that time was just the tip of the iceberg of what he wanted.

His body pressed down into hers, his free hand digging underneath her until he was bringing her up to meet him.

Bloody panties, pajama shorts, cotton sheet, pants, underwear…

"Killian," she murmured, her returned kiss turning away, just as her head did, offering only her cheek as a substitute.

Perhaps, then, those barriers of cloth were okay for now. Perhaps there was more work for him to do…

The hand clasped with hers moved, bringing them both to lay above her head on the pillow.

"Emma?"

And he waited. Waited for his wife to turn her attention back to him, for his wife to meet his eyes again.

Was it his fault? Would it have been better to have gone through the motions, to have quietly undressed, cut off the lights, ease under the sheets and into his wife, and, with no more emotion than that called for, attempt to make a baby for the eleventh month in a row?

Of all the barriers, he disliked that one the most. The barrier that wouldn't let him inside her heart, inside her soul, inside her head.

"I love you, Emma," Killian told her again, staring into those green eyes and needing her to not process it, but to know it and feel it within her.

Emma opened her mouth, a full second passing before…

"I love you, too, Killian."

His eyes pinpointed on the different features of her face, taking in the honesty in her eyes, the slight lift of her right eyebrow, the slight part of her not-yet-well-kissed lips.

"I know," he whispered.

He did know. No matter what demons Emma tried to fight, he always knew that she loved him. And he knew that she knew that he loved her. Sometimes knowing wasn't enough though. Sometimes…

She surprised him when she lifted her mouth up to his, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. When she didn't pull back, when one simple kiss turned into another, then another, and then another...

Killian didn't know what it meant to her. He could imagine, and he could wonder if his imagination was right or wrong. He did know what it meant to him, to feel the gentle and quick caress of her body against his, her mouth taking lead of where their kiss went...

There was still panties, pajama shorts, cotton sheet, pants, and underwear between them.

It was tempting, the thought of bringing that hand that still laid at her side in between their bodies, encouraging her to do something about the ache that had never quite left. Unfortunately, he had other thoughts that rivaled even that.

He listened to the hiss of breath she inhaled as he pulled away, falling back to his own side of the bed as he shuffled, kicked, out of the clothes and pulled back the sheet at the same time. _Halfway there…_

Halfway wasn't nearly enough.

The thought crossed his mind even as he raised himself on his elbow, turning into Emma and stealing another kiss from her.

Her ache-filled moan stirred a fire deep in his belly, needing even more. He heard that hand fall from above their heads, falling back into the position. Not to stay, because that sheet was slipping back up, covering the both of them this time.

 _Better than the original._

Not quite what he had in mind.

Killian had a need. Quite a few needs. He needed to deepen that kiss that Emma had taken over in soft and sweet pecks. He needed one of those hands that lay between them to be touching _some_ part of his body. He needed his own hand to slip inside her panties, to finally seek out the heat, wetness, and warmth that he was sure he would find there. Luckily, all those changes were easily at his grasp.

He grasped Emma's closest hand, his fingers closing around her wrist. He delved in closer her, his mouth opening wider over hers and his tongue slipping expertly into hers. He brushed her fingers over his collarbone, loving the way her nails scraped on their way down his chest all on her own. He wondered, hoped, nearly prayed that she would continue her trek farther and farther down… even as his hand angled down over hers, fingertips hitting her bellybutton on their way… inside pajamas… and panties.

Emma's foot moved across the bed, her knee slowing raising and her leg falling away.

The angle she'd created, even through shorts and panties, was perfect. Three fingers slowly and meticulously drew small circles over her, relying more so on the pressure he applied there.

Killian didn't mind when she didn't kiss him back. He didn't mind when her hand paused to grip at the hair at his stomach, stopping her own trek. He didn't mind, but enjoyed most of all, when her hips made circles that were opposite of his own, or how she pressed herself closer into those fingers.

"Bloody hell, I can't wait to see you fall apart," he muttered thickly, pulling back from her.

Emma's whine into his shoulder was the one he wanted, an ache so deep that it couldn't be hid.

Deep.

The heat and silkiness was growing, his own body reacting to every part of hers. He loved the way the encouraged his touch, but… he wanted more.

Angling his hand inside the panties, his fingers slipped deep, slipped inside.

Killian almost caught her gasp with his kiss, but that would have meant that he'd miss the way her head slipped down onto her pillow. He would have missed the flutter of her eyelashes. He would have missed the unmistakable flush of her skin of her neck, her cheeks.

"All I want is to…"

Even as his began to speak, he saw the change in her. He felt her tighten around his fingers, felt the slight dip of her knee, saw the skepticism in her eyes as they opened.

"Make love to you," Killian whispered. "I want to make love to you."

It was a battle warring in his mind, but he pulled his hand out from her panties. Instead, his gripped at the waistband of both, yanking one side down. He was on the move then, his body slipping down as his other hand met the other side of her waistband. He was naked; she needed to naked too. For now, having her bare from breasts to toe would suffice for what he needed.

Emma's clothes fared better than his own, landing on the floor instead of hanging off the side of the bed. The sheet that she'd pulled over them had also been a lost cause, pooling low over Killian's legs as he positioned himself between hers.

Smoothed. His hand clasped over her inner thigh as he watched the milkiness of the skin there. His mouth was drawn there, kissing the soft skin, almost losing himself in her scent.

Killian felt the instant Emma's hands clamped down on his head, almost surprisingly. Her fingertips couldn't reach that elusive spot at the back of his head, but they still felt amazing.

"I love you." It was desperate sigh as her knee slipped away and her hands moved restlessly over his head.

"Say it again," he murmured, inching his up her inner thigh, curving in as he ran out of available skin.

"I love you." It sounded even more desperate than before.

Her other thigh had been neglected, he realized, turning his attention there instead of…

Just as smooth. Just as silky. His mouth opened over that thigh, sucking at the sweetness there.

Emma's fingertips reached his ears, crawling over as much of his head that she could reach. Above him, her quiet sighs were music to his ears, a song calling out just to him for more. It was only when her knee fell away again, opening herself even more to him, and when her soft sigh became a quiet moan…

Killian pulled up, hooking her thighs with his arms, and dragged her down to him as well. There was a time for teasing. This wasn't one of those times. A firm stroke of his tongue from bottom to top of her slit caused a ripple throughout her body, pressing herself even closer into him.

No, it wasn't a time for teasing…

His hold on her tightened as his mouth took her, ignoring his own twitch and ache of desire swirling inside him. His eyes closed as his entire mouth followed the cues from every part of her on how to push her over her own edge. He listened to her moans, her cries. He paid attention to each and every minute direction her fingers gave as they caressed his head. He paid attention to every tremor, every shake of her legs, hips stomach, arms.

"I want…" Emma's fingers weren't gentle this time. She grasped a fistful of his hair, pulling him away. "Inside."

Her breathless request was one that Killian didn't want to give. Not yet. He insinuated as much as he shook his head adamantly, the vibration of his incoherent hum hitting a sensitive part and making her cry out to God..

"P-lease…" Her fingers twisted again, attempting to pull him away. "Pretty… please."

Killian didn't put up the same resistance as before, his arms unhooking from her thighs as she lifted him towards her.

Even as he fell over her, his thumb had found that sensitive and stimulated nub, rubbing over it in quickly and tight circles in hopes of keeping it that way. He was able to see her face now, see the way the flush had overtaken her.

"Beautiful."

He slipped his fingers inside her slowly, watching her chin raised, her mouth gape open, the short inhalation of breath.

"Bloody beautiful," he murmured, now at a consensus in his mind. His fingers moved even quicker inside her, feeling the muscles clenching around him, and his thumb continued its caress over that nub.

"Not… what I… meant."

A breathless Emma Jones? Perfection.

"I love you, Emma."

Her eyes opened languidly and her head dug into her pillow.

"Please?"

But he could see her, could see the tremor rippling over her flat belly and the tremble in each of her limbs. He could feel her, could feel the way her muscles clenched as his fingers curved inside of her. He didn't want her to lose this. Not when she was so close.

Killian's lips turned up into a sympathetic smile. "Like this, love."

"Babe…"

It was all she got out as her body began to pulse from the inside out. He listened to her cry, his body silently screaming from need itself. Killian dropped his head as he moaned, his mouth closing over her nipple and sucking hard to sate his own need.

He rode out her first orgasm with her. He felt the ache in his heart, knowing that this was only the beginning. Only the beginning of their night. A night he planned to fill with lovemaking with his wife.

And if they were lucky, if the gods were on their side, then perhaps…

They would make a baby as well.


	13. Chapter 12

The sadness wasn't supposed to blend into the work day. The sadness was supposed to stay at bay. Work was supposed to be her oasis. She needed for it to be her oasis. Instead…

Instead, she felt a pit in her belly, tightening and rolling all around. A pit… that didn't signify a baby that possibly _could_ be there. Instead, it felt like a ball of tension and stress, sinking into her core. There should have been hope. She should have had hope, but… Instead, she felt as if her body was betraying her. It was a betrayal of the worst kind. One she seemed to have no control over.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest, her fingertips slowly ran up and down the length of them. She felt the strong tug of the frown that covered her face, but couldn't do anything about it.

There was a pregnancy test sitting in her bag under the desk. The same pregnancy test that she could have taken that morning, but had chosen not to. If she took it now, if she got it over and done with, then maybe the sadness would go away. Maybe.

It wasn't that she had her hopes up. After the last time, after the last disappointment, it was hard to be anywhere near close to excited. So maybe that was it. Maybe it was the thought of being disappointed just one more time that she wasn't ready for. But if she knew, then maybe she could move on from what she was feeling. If she had her answer, then she wouldn't be able to dwell on the _what ifs._ Maybe her mind would drift away from the sadness, even if it were just for a little bit.

Emma wasn't going to be alone forever. Her lunch hour was going to draw to an end fairly soon, and then it would be back to work. Belle would whisk back into the room, and then it would be time to put on the brave face that said that everything was alright. Then there would be another display that would have to be set up, work to do.

She sighed as she let her eyes fall back to that desk, conjuring up the thought of what was on the floor right behind it and out of view.

She wasn't pregnant. (Maybe if she kept that in mind, it wouldn't hurt so much when she read the negative test result.) So she should take the test and get it over with.

Emma tightened the hold she had on herself as her head tilted in the direction of that test that lay in her bag, which sat on the floor right under her desk.

Her steps forward looked stronger than they were, but sometimes all there was was the facade to whatever was being presented.

* * *

She felt numb. Taking in all of the alternatives, numb was probably the best way to feel anyway.

Her body felt heavy, weak, and she gave up trying to hold herself up. Instead, she sunk into the toilet seat, her eyes closing and ignoring the pregnancy test as it sat on top of the trash container. Her eyes closed, but it didn't stop the silent tears from falling down her cheeks.

Emma pulled a heavy hand up to her face, swiping away at the tears and wishing for them to go away.

She wasn't pregnant. Didn't she already lament herself to that outcome? Hadn't she been prepared for this to be the case? Just like all the other months that had passed, it wasn't a shock. It wasn't.

There wasn't that much time left in her break. Soon, it would be time to get back out there and get to work. It would be time to get back to her reality. And what her reality was that she wasn't pregnant. She wouldn't be able to cut off everything inside her and try to numb the pain. The sooner she realized that, the better.

Emma turned her head towards the trash. She leaned over the toilet, her hand came up and pressed hard down on the box that she'd put there, smashing it down and out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind…

That wasn't going to be true though, was it? It wasn't out of mind.

She wasn't pregnant. Maybe she never would be again. Maybe…

Maybe it was all her fault, and she needed to come to grasp with that.

* * *

"How are you doing, Emma?"

Dr. Hopper's voice was… professionally flat, void of anything that was significant to what he, himself, had already perceived about that question.

Emma brought her thumb up to her lips, biting down on the nail rather hard before pulling it away. She needed this. She knew that she needed this session, to talk things out, to verbalize everything that she was dealing with at the moment. Well, this moment and more. All the moments. The past. The present. The future.

Her lips turned up in a mirthless smile. "Not good." It escaped from her mouth only as a whisper.

She sighed as she moved, bringing her legs up and folding them underneath her. There was a strong need to be as compact as possible. That would help with the all those feelings running through her.

"Why not good?" Dr. Hopper asked simply, or maybe to move the conversation along.

Emma eyed him, and refused to get misty-eyed over everything going on in her life.

"I'm losing myself," she answered lightly, trying… very hard to come to terms with that fact. "I'm not happy." That admission caused the same mirthless smile to form again. "I feel as if… as if I'm in a downward spiral and don't know what to do about it."

There was a pause, a moment of silence that she couldn't fill. What she'd already shared should have spoken volumes for what was going on with her.

"Emma?" Dr. Hopper moved, leaning forward in his seat and closer to her. "Tell me what you are dealing with right now."

She blinked her eyes at him slowly, knowing that he knew, as well as she did, where this all stemmed from.

After all the work she had put into herself, after doing everything _right_ to fix the issues that she had dealt with for too many years of her life, her downward fall had stemmed from one thing.

Emma narrowed her eyes on the doctor before blinking and turning her attention to a small spot of his chair.

"I can't get pregnant," she shared flatly. The emotion was gone from the statement. What else did she have to give to the fact?

"It hasn't happened yet," Dr. Hopper stated, sounding as if it was a matter of opinion rather than the truth.

Emma lifted her chin in somewhat of a nod. "In nearly a year of trying, it hasn't happened yet."

There was another pause, the only sound being created came from the clock somewhere on a wall, ticking away. Hmm, she knew all about time ticking away…

"For many months now, I know that has been an issue that you've been dealing with," Dr. Hopper said carefully, seeming to be thinking out each word meticulously. His head tilted and his eyes stared into hers. "There wasn't a time limit given to you on being successful in conceiving, yet it seems as if this milestone has left you defeated."

Her eyelids felt instantly heavy at those words. It _did_ feel that way. Twelve months. One year.

Emma took in a shaky breath. "I feel it." Her eyebrow went up sharply as her own head tilted. "The sadness?" She shook her head then, frowning. "It's happening more and more. The bouts of sadness. The amount of time I spend in those bouts. And…" She swallowed the thickness of her throat and shook her head again. "I don't know what to do about it."

"Is it like before?" Dr. Hopper asked quietly. "Does it remind you of the past episodes you've had?"

Emma caressed one arm with her fingertips, taking the light touch for whatever comfort she could get.

"It feels like it could be. It feels like I'm so close to closing in on myself and sinking again," she admitted to him.

It was Killian that came to mind just then. Thoughts of how he had changed her. How it was his strength and love that had made her want to be whole and no longer broken. She'd done it for herself, but she knew that he was one of the many gifts she would receive for being the person she wanted to be.

Emma felt her face scrunch up, from fear as much as pain.

"Closing myself off…" She looked at Dr. Hopper, her eyes widening. "Killian."

"What about Killian, Emma?" he asked, encouraging her to continue.

"I don't want to lose him." There was so much truth in that statement. So much fear...

Dr. Hopper's head tilted minutely. "Figuratively or literally?"

 _Figuratively or literally?_ The thought of a physical separation from her husband caused an ache in her chest that followed to the depths of her soul.

"Literally? I…" The caress of her fingertips became a grip as strong as a vice on her arm. "No. I wouldn't let that happen."

 _Tick. Tock. Tick._ "Okay," Dr. Hopper whispered.

"But…" Emma blinked her eyes at him, knowing the truth. "I've pushed him away before." She gave a quick nod of her head. "I know I have. I've... taken my frustration out on him."

Dr. Hopper inhaled a short breath, his finger coming up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Emma, do you think you're gravitating towards taking your frustration out on him more than you are gravitating towards leaning on him?"

She felt herself swallow, felt the burn in her eyes and the threat of tears while her stomach did a nasty flip-flop.

She was tired. Tired of missing the happy moments. Tired of concentrating on the not so happy moments. That's what she was doing…

Emma's mind turned… towards a night that took place… weeks ago. Weeks ago, when they were both hopeful, if not doubtful, that the last pregnancy test she'd taken… would be the last. Trying to get pregnant had turned into a thankless job, with nothing to show for it at the end. This time hadn't been different, no matter that almost every sexual encounter had been more than just that. He hadn't let her make it into only that.

It had been to no avail though. The pregnancy test she had taken at work had confirmed that. Nothing mattered. The approach didn't matter The position didn't matter. The need or want didn't matter. She wasn't pregnant. For eleven months, she hadn't been able to get pregnant.

So there weren't any happy moments. There couldn't be, No matter how Killian tried, right underneath the surface was all the unhappiness that flowed deep through her.

Emma settled deep into her resignation, feeling the defeat weighing her down.

"I've done it before," she finally answered quietly. "I've made up excuses to move away from him. I've been," she said, shaking her head, "upset to the point of walking away. I've been… sad enough to… to simply not be honest." She blinked her eyes, attempting to keep the tears away. "I'm more than frustrated. It doesn't matter how much I _want_ to lean on him, because there are as many times that I don't that I do."

The seconds in silence began to tick away after Emma spoke. She didn't know if Dr. Hopper was attempting to let those words ruminate in her own mind, or if he was thinking of how to approach her from that point on.

The silence didn't make her think more. What it did was make her heart hurt just a bit more. She hurt for herself and for her husband and for them both. She hurt for them, and he didn't even know it.

"Do you want to lean on Killian, Emma?" Dr. Hopper finally asked.

The question brought Emma's fingertips up to her eyes, carefully dabbing at the tears that had collected in the corners.

"Of course I want to," she answered, knowing that it was honest and true. "I'd love to curl up with my husband and bare things with him that I do to you."

His lips twitched, not so much of a smile, but maybe more so to do with understanding.

"And what has to happen for you to be able to do that?" he followed up. He leaned in closer this time, his face blank of any and all expression. His thoughts were his own as he let her come to a conclusion all on her own. "It's what you want, Emma, so how do you get there?"

She felt the immediate crumbling of her entire self, beginning with the sag of her shoulders and the tears glistening her eyes just one more time that day.

She knew the answer to his question, knew the truth. She knew that there was only one thing that was in her own control that she could do to fix her. Or, rather, a combination of two things. But first, _first…_

For more than eleven months, her life and her family's life had revolved around the act of trying to get pregnant, the chance to expand their family. It was all out of love, there was no doubt about that. She wanted a baby, wanted to give Killian a baby, wanted to grow their happiness and share their love with a tiny being that would forever be a part of both her and Killian. They'd spent nearly two-thirds of their married life on trying to make that possible. In that time… in that time, she has began to lose a piece of herself.

It didn't have to be that way. Married life didn't _have_ to be consumed by the idea and challenges of getting married. What… what would their life have been like… if she hadn't told him that night? What would their life had been like… if she'd never came consumed with the desire to become pregnant?

What could her life be like… if… if she let it all go?

Emma shook her head slowly as she tried to control the outward physical reactions to the truth, She opened her mouth wide before gasping.

"I don't want to try anymore." It rushed out of her. And once it started, the truth poured out of her. "I don't want the schedule and the routine." Her head shook again, emphatically this time. "I don't want to see the date of a calendar and know that this is the start of my cycle so this is the day we try to get pregnant. I don't want to know when I am ovulating and when it is the perfect time to take a pregnancy test. A test that will…" Emma's eyes widened as she took in another deep breath. "A test that will only read a negative result." God, she'd had so many negative results. Enough to last her a lifetime. "I don't… I…" She shook her head, slower this time as she felt the rush of adrenaline racing through her.

All of that meant of those pieces of her confession added up to one thing. And she couldn't deny that one thing, not when it was right there at the cusp.

Emma's eyes were sad, her lids heavy once more as she cocked her head to the side. Her mouth opened, ready to voice her realization.

"I don't want try to get pregnant anymore." It came out as a whispered sigh, but...

It was her truth. In that moment in her life, that was her truth.

Almost a year. Nearly a year of the ups and downs, the highs and lows. They had attempted to get pregnant only six months into their marriage. It was because they both shared the need to grow their family. But by giving into that need, that had been a priority over so much of their short marriage.

"Maybe… I don't want to…" She looked passed the doctor, settling her gaze somewhere far off. "Try anymore."

By giving the thought of getting such precedence, Emma had felt herself slip. She had felt herself give into sadness on many occasions. So much so that her depression had reared its ugly head, threatening to take her somewhere that she had fought really hard to get out of.

She couldn't go back, did not want to go back. And if… If there was only one way to make sure that didn't happen then…

What more was there left to say?

* * *

What helped with stress? Emma needed to know, because if she didn't figure it out then it was going to be a real possibility that stress would be the thing to take her down.

There was a part of her that wished that she could have started her day a bit late. Or maybe… not start her day at all. That wasn't an option. Not when the idea was being alone. She knew Killian's schedule as well as her own. He wouldn't have left for the newspaper until late-morning, hours after she. And there would have been absolutely no way that she could have faced him for that length of time while that ache grew and rumbled inside her belly.

One of Emma's greatest fears: Killian would notice…

After Killian noticed, then she would begin to take notice of things about him as well...

The results from the pregnancy test had gone the usual route. The bits and pieces of sadness that she could read on his face had lasted mere moments before he was the ever-doting and caring husband.

God! He was always so doting and caring! He was always so careful to hide the pain that she knew he had to be feeling! They would soon be coming up to a year of trying, of failing, to get pregnant. It was a baby, a family, that she knew he wanted just as bad, if not more, than she. With every failed test, though, it had been so easy to let go of the pain, to not show it. Instead, he offered to hold her, to ease her upset feelings by offering her smiles as words of encouragement.

But who was Emma to judge? Stress had become her middle name. She was getting better and better at keeping it away from Killian, pulling away, mentally as well as physically, and distancing herself from it all.

Stress…

It didn't make her feel better as she was drawn to the date. It was so ingrained in her to live by the calendar. That fact made it hard to miss that she was already three days late. It was hard to escape the fact that she couldn't miss her period due to being pregnant, but _could_ do so with stressing over _not_ becoming pregnant…

So… what helped with stress?

Emma wanted it to be bed. She wanted it to be the confines of her own bed as she buried herself beneath the covers for an entire day without the real world getting in. She wanted it to be solitude and silence as her mind…

It wouldn't be at peace, her mind. Being alone wouldn't drive out the doubts or the pain or the hurt. What it _would_ do would be to feed her need, the need to dwell, to stew, to encase herself in all the bad things.

She wanted her bed.

She wanted home.

She wanted to be alone.

Even as Emma looked at her phone for the time, noting the earliness of the day, she mentally counted the hours and minutes that signified the time it would take for Killian to leave the house. If she did a half-day, if she spent the morning at work and then took the rest of the day as personal time…

She would have hours to do exactly what she wanted.

Emma knew, even as her thoughts formulated into a definitive plan, that it wasn't the answer to her stress. It wasn't going to stop the ache that started in her belly and traveled throughout her body evenly. What it was was a start. And sometimes all there was was a start…

She could be home in bed in less than three hours.

Her eyes closed heavily at the thought of first stepping into a steaming hot shower, the beads of water pounding against her head in rhythmic pattern.

Next, it was the heavy intake of breath, just as the thought of some three hours passing away slowly instead of rapidly.

She wasn't surprised when she found her arms around herself, an unconscious but much needed embrace.

Maybe she didn't have an answer just yet on how to take away the stress, but there was a small comfort in burying it down deep for at least a little while.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm uploading two chapters today because this story has had it's fair share of sad moments. And this is one time I don't want to leave it like this.**


	14. Chapter 13

The quick succession of short horn beeps from nearby caused Killian turn his attention from his own car and Connor, who was making his way onto the lawn. He raised an eyebrow as his head ducked down and turned towards the street.

Lily sat behind the wheel of her car, offering a short wave as she gazed through the passenger door. The car rolled up a just a bit, completely blocking off the driveway so that she could get a better view of him.

"Hey, Killian," she called through the window, offering up a smile.

"Lily, how are you doing today?" he asked before turning to look for Connor. His nephew had made his way about halfway to the porch without so much of a concern about waiting for his uncle.

"I'm good," Lily called out in answer, bringing Killian's attention back to her. He saw her hand slip down from the wheel as she peered even farther into the passenger seat window. "I had a favor to ask of you though."

The comment had Killian nodding, even through the curiosity of what she needed from him.

"What can I do for you, love?"

A smile brighten her face at his question, bringing a slight glow to her face. "I tried to get in contact with Emma and…" This time, her face fell and her eyes squinted just in the corners. "I haven't been able to catch her." A frown made her pause before she continued, "Can you let her know that I'd love to hear from her? Tell her to call me, or drop by, okay?"

Lily may have looked curious by the lack of contact with Emma, but it hit Killian a little differently. He hadn't known that Emma had come up MIA recently when it came to Lily. But he wasn't surprised. Not really. Not when there had been a few significant changes, a few acts of withdrawal he'd noticed about his wife.

"Ah…" Killian gave a quick bob of his head. "I'll pass the message on to her, Lily. I promise," he assured her, offering a small smile along with the words.

He saw the tilt of her head and the small smile. "Thanks, Killian." The car began to roll ahead. "I'll see you later."

His hand lifted in a wave that was almost too cautious. "Goodbye." As the tires picked up speed, Killian let himself turn around, bringing his attention back to the car and…

Connor had made the trek to the front porch on his own, his attention drawn to something there on the floor of the porch...

Innocence.

Killian shook his head, trying to keep it clear from the thoughts that were trying to niggle his brain. How successful he was as he grabbed his satchel and Conner's bag from the car, he didn't know, because…. Emma was avoiding her friend.

Lily hadn't t used the term avoidance, but it was more than clear to Killian. Emma was withdrawing.

He hated the times that she did it to him. And it was happening more frequently over the last few weeks. More so now after the last pregnancy test from weeks ago. That, he could understand. That, he had seen her do before. It was the fact that her avoidance was beginning to include others besides him. It was beginning to include Lily. It was including Ruby.

Killian bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, feeling the sting of pain as his teeth clamped there. It didn't stop him from biting down even harder as he shut the car door and began to move.

He didn't like the trend. He didn't like the pattern. He didn't like the fact that it was becoming so very easy for her to turn back into the person she tried so very hard to not be anymore. Because that was what it felt like. It felt as if the more time that passed, the easier it was to hide herself away from the world, the world that she, herself, had created. A world that had revolved around family, friends, trust, love…

Killian's eyes locked on the back of Connor as he made his way up the steps, an attempt to clear his mind and focus on the here and now.

"Come on, Connor," he murmured to the nearly four-year-old boy. It sounded normal, didn't it? "Into the house we go."

Obediently, he turned to face both Killian and the door, waiting patiently for Killian to open the door.

Killian questioned the timing of his babysitting duties. Where his mind had once been settled on making phone calls and doing prep work on the override of the Baker budget veto, his thoughts were turning more towards his wife and his marriage. It would have been an interesting enough sort of day with Connor beside him while on the phone, but preoccupation could make for poor childcare skills.

It was too late to do anything about that now. Connor was his for the day. Perhaps he should just be grateful that Liam and Ruby didn't need him for both Connor and Brennan.

With the key in the keyhole, the front door swung open. Killian watched with a deep and unguarded frown as Connor went in first.

He wanted…

Knowing Emma, she was probably hours from being home herself. Which left him with hours to decide if… he would even ask.

He needed…

"Uncle Killy?"

Killian swallowed immediately, mentally shaking his head and turning his attention to Connor. The lad seemed to be trying to decide if he should turn around towards his uncle or continue on into the living room. The final decision came after making three of four steps and then turning halfway back into Killian's direction.

Or perhaps Connor was just what Killian need. He would be a distraction, something that would force his mind away from what had tried to niggle at his mind.

Killian found himself smiling as he watched Connor back himself towards the living room while looking up at him.

"Yes, Connor?" he asked, tilting his head and raising his eyebrow in interest.

"Can we watch TV?" Connor asked, throwing a similar eyebrow up.

Killian looked towards the living room, his eyes setting on the television. Perhaps it would be an easier day than even he had predicted.

"How about you take your bag," Killian said, letting Connor's tote slip off his shoulder, "and perhaps grab one of your coloring books and crayons out?"

Connor came towards his uncle, hands already out to obediently follow Killian's directions.

"You get settled over there on the couch and I'll find something for us to both watch."

Connor's smile took over his face, taking the bag and letting it slip across the floor on his way to the couch.

Then…

Emma invaded his thoughts with a vengeance, pulling a frown down over his features. Following Connor into the living room with slower and more deliberate steps, it was thoughts of how to approach his new, not so new, issue with his wife.

He wasn't helping, was he, by staying silent? He wasn't going to be able to stay silent, was he? Not this time. Not when the trend was growing. And when Lily mentioned the fact that Emma was creating a space between them, and he wasn't sure if Lily even knew the true meaning of that, Killian knew.

Hours.

He was sure he had hours.

It was only hours, because this time… Killian had to talk to her, no matter what.

* * *

"Hey, buddy."

Killian hadn't heard Emma make her way through the door, but he heard her greeting to Connor from the half-made up dining room table a room away. Work had meshed with the preparation of a quick dinner that he hoped Emma wouldn't mind.

He pushed back his chair even as his fingers slid across the mouse of his laptop and opened one tab in place of another. Again, budgets would have to wait for at least a little while.

Killian rose from the chair, leaving it pushed out as he moved towards the conversation that was taking place in the living room.

Emma and Connor were in mid-hug, his legs wrapped around her waist and his arms wrapped around her neck. Emma placed a quick kiss on his cheek before she was lowering him back down onto the couch.

"What have you been up to?" Emma asked cheerily, her fingers coming up to lightly brush the hair away from his forehead.

"Watching Thomas the Train," Connor answered promptly, his eyes falling over the screen of iPad.

"Hmm." Her tone was light, curious.

"No worries, love," Killian spoke up, breaking his silence and the fact that he was watching his wife with their nephew. "It hasn't been all television shows for the day."

Emma offered him a smile from across the room, a genuine smile that had his heart gripping hard in his chest.

"Threw a movie in there, too?" she teased lightly. "Hey, Killian."

Killian's fingers came up, hunting out for that space directly behind his ear and scratching gently.

"Hello, my love."

Instead of moving- he wished she would have moved towards him- Emma wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself.

"Ruby's going to get you," she reminded him.

"After doing her a last minute favor?" Killian asked. "I doubt it." A smile crossed his face, only to revert into a slight frown. "How are you doing?"

She looked confused, or perhaps surprised, by his question. "Fine." Her shoulder lifted in a shrug as she let her arms fall away to her sides. "A little tired. Fine."

This time, she moved. Not towards him, but stepping back the way she had came.

Killian felt the slight frown increase into something else.

"Where are you going?" he asked her, knowing he didn't have to, knowing exactly where she was going.

He'd seen her retreat more times than usual as of late. When he'd made it home last, he'd found her in their bedroom more times than not.

Another shoulder lifted just slightly as Emma turned her head towards him.

"I'm going to go upstairs," she said quietly. She stopped walking, finally turning back to him completely. "Did you need me for anything?"

There was a layer of something, some kind of facade, that was covering the veneer.

Did Killian need her for anything? He felt the instant shift of weight from one foot to the other as he looked at her. There was a heaviness in his heart that was beginning to weigh him down. It was only going to get worse if he let her go, he knew, because their supposed new normal… was not normal.

There had been more than three hours that passed between the time that he'd spoken to Lily and the time he was face-to-face with Emma. In those three hours, it wasn't Boston's political prospects that had swamped his mind. It was his wife.

Killian licked his lips as his hand fell out in front of him in her direction.

"I needed to talk to you," he whispered, the seriousness of the situation easily noted in his tone. "We need to talk… Emma."

As his nervousness grew, he watched the wariness of her own posture, a thought crossing her mind. As the seconds ticked away he could feel the speed-up of his heart deep in his chest,

"What-"

Killian didn't make a habit of turning his back on people, and certainly not his wife, but he was hoping she'd follow when he began to make his way back towards the dining room. There was a chance that she would follow through with what she ultimately wanted to do: she would make an excuse and find the staircase that lead to their bedroom even though he'd told her that he wanted to talk to her. He made the gamble, though.

He brought his thumb up to his lips, swiping roughly from one side to the other. He then threw a cautious look over his shoulder, finding Emma taking a careful step in his direction.

How many times had he nearly broach the subject, only to back down in hopes that whatever problems they'd had would simply get better? Killian could think of a couple of those scenarios. Today… today couldn't be one of those times.

Just inside the dining room, Killian turned swiftly around, seeing Emma some feet away still, but progressing.

Whatever facade that had been there before seemed to grow between the time they had last faced each other. Why? But he knew why, didn't he? She wasn't going to let him in easily. He didn't know if she thought that this would be just like all the other times, but she was coming in with a predetermined notion that he wasn't going to get far with what he wanted.

"What," Emma started, shaking her head while her gaze hit the floor, "is it? What did you want to say?" She looked up then, her brows knitting together as she crossed her arms over her chest.

There was a part of him that wanted to scoop her up in his arms, to force her into looking at him and break out of whatever mold she'd put herself in. There was another part of him that wondered what it would take to get her to break out of that mold on her wasn't a battle shield. It was a thin veil of everything being fine, that there was nothing wrong.

Killian didn't like that shield either. He knew her. She knew that he knew her. But it was partially his fault. There had been times like this before, where her veil covered her. It wasn't that he'd ignored it. What he'd done was let her deal with things with him behind her. He shouldn't have been behind her. He should've been next to her.

Killian didn't grab her up. His tongue ran across his teeth as he considered how to begin with her. He'd had hours to think on it, but now that the time was here…

Too many times had he let things go, too many times had he let her try to figure things out for herself…

"I talked to Lily today," he started quietly.

Emma seemed to absorb that bit of news, nodding her head slowly.

"Okay," she said carefully. Her head tilted all of a sudden, and another frown covered her face. "About?" Her arms, still together, loosened over her chest.

About?

Killian felt himself swallow even as he tried to think of the best way to continue.

"She only wanted me to pass on a message to you," he finally got out.

There was a part of her that seemed to deflate with a sense of ease. The arms across her chest loosened even more. She raised both eyebrows and silently waited for him to continue.

What was it? What was weighing her down so badly? Those were the questions that he had for himself. There had been a time where she shared everything with him. There was a time where sharing everything had meant everything. There had also been a time where she had hidden so much of herself from him. Those days were back. They couldn't be back. For both their sakes, for the sake of their marriage, the sake of their family, it couldn't be that way.

"What, Killian?" Emma asked when the silence stretched on for too long.

He took in a small breath, refusing to let it be the deep inhalation that he felt he needed.

"She wants you to get in contact with her," Killian told her evenly.

Emma blinked her eyes up at him. A tick of a second passed before she nodded her head.

"Okay." Her confusion marred her face, but it was the step backwards that said she was happy to leave it at that.

"She said she hasn't been able to get in contact with you as of late," Killian continued, refusing to give in to the need to tilt his head.

Emma's brows raised once more as she took just one more step.

"I've been busy," she reminded him.

Killian's lips twitched in a sad smile. Busy keeping to herself up in that bedroom when she wasn't at work, for the most part….

"Ruby said something quite similar recently," he added.

"About being busy, or about not being able to get in contact with me?" she asked warily. She didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she turned on her heel, increasing the amount of space between them. "Killian, that's what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Well, just to start," he told her with a mirthless and small smile.

Not that she'd seen the smile. The amount of time it had taken her to reach the dining room was erased in short seconds as she was on her way out.

"Emma, stop." It left Killian's mouth firmly even as he held his position in the center of the room. "Don't walk out on me."

He heard her huff of laughter just as she spun back around.

"I'm not walking out on you," she assured him slowly. "But, as I said, I've been busy lately." She shook her head once. "So, no, I haven't had time to catch up with the girls, Killian. And if that worries you-"

"Not just that."

"Then I'm sorry that worries you," she continued, fairly ignoring the fact that it was a lot more than that. "Killian, I just got home. I'm just getting off of work. Do you really want to get into this now?"

He lifted a shoulder as he stood stock still across from her. "Get into what, Emma?"

Her eyes blinked on him again. "How about you tell me?" she breathed out. "Since you're the one who pulled me aside."

The deep breath that Killian had tried to control seized him, air filling his lungs to capacity as he watched his wife. Did he want to have it out with her? That wasn't what this was about. Not really. Or was it?

He could read the pain that was buried right beneath the surface. Perhaps she was able to do the same with him. This wasn't her anymore, the hurt being buried. It wasn't supposed to be her and it wasn't supposed to be them. But as the months had passed…

"Is this about the baby, Emma?" he asked, hearing the way it left his mouth tremulously, feeling a stone drop and sink in his gut.

It was her turn to take in a deep breath, her eyes widening on him before rapidly blinking, lashes fluttering.

"What baby… Killian?" She shut her mouth tight, then opened it wide, but silent. "Because…"

There was a part of him that did want it to be all about the baby. If it was one singularly entity, then…

"Is this about… trying to get pregnant, Emma?" he asked with a little more fierce in his tone this time. "Is that why you're starting to cut everything and everyone off?"

Her arms were folded across her chest again, her hands balled in tight little fist. She took another step back, increasing the space between them.

"Is that what I'm doing?" It was reflection, as simple as that.

"Deny it," he challenged her, a dim fire being lit in his eyes as he stared at her.

It felt like the stirrings of an argument, a fight. That wasn't what he wanted. But if she stood there and refuted what he said, if she denied what he knew to be true, then…

God! Was it all about the trials and tribulations of trying to get pregnant? Was it simply that? Because if it was that, then they were supposed to be in this together. She wasn't supposed to give in to hurt all on her own. Not when he was there. Not when he hurt, too.

"I've… been… busy," Emma reminded him through almost-gritted teeth. "Don't you know that?"

"I know that you like to throw yourself into work and long hours when real life is bothering you," he countered. Killian took a cautious step forward, wanted her not to counter it with one of her own. "Again, Emma," he said quietly, seeing the anger and tension in the purse of her lips, "is this about the pregnancy?"

Her mouth tightened all the more and he saw the way she sucked in her cheek.

"You can't refer to whatever this is as 'the pregnancy', Killian," she muttered between clenched teeth. "What this is is not a pregnancy." Emma's eyes fluttered closed just as she shook her head. She turned on her heel again, all prepared to walk away from him.

Killian didn't notice the slight tremor in his hand until he'd lifted it out towards her, fully well intending to follow her.

"You haven't seen your friends, you haven't seen your family." He was careful as he reached out to grab her arm with his hand, careful that the grip was not too firm.

Emma spun around, having made it almost to the living room.

Her own gaze held a certain type of fire, watching him intently.

"Really, with Connor here, Killian?" she whispered, angling her head to the side.

The sounds of trains and tank engines should have resonated with him… Killian brought his eyes away from her to look over at the couch.

Connor hadn't looked up, his eyes trained on the iPad. In all truthfulness, he was sure that Conner was not privy to loud arguments being expressed back and forth between his mom and dad. Killian had a good idea that even though Connor hadn't looked up, it didn't mean that he wasn't absorbing everything that was happening around him.

"Connor?" he called to him, his voice even and as normal as possible. As soon as the boy looked up at him, Killian offered him a small smile. "Why don't you take that video upstairs to Henry's room and play for a bit."

He felt Emma's brief attempt to break the hold he had on her, but he kept her close.

The look on Connor's face was one of interest as he scooted off the couch.

"Okay, Uncle Killian," he mumbled easily enough.

"Good boy," Killian praised with an easy smile, placing a solid hand on top of Connor's head as he passed by. "We'll come up in a bit to check on you."

Watching Connor nod and head for the stairs allowed Emma enough of a distraction to slip away from his hold. .

"I… really don't know… what to say after that."

Killian only glanced at her, seeing the shock and slight, yet pronounce, disgust cross her face before turning his attention back to the staircase.

Disgust? Was it really disgusting to have sent Connor away? He bit down on his lip and listened hard for the sound of the bedroom door opening somewhere above him.

"I told you that we needed to talk," he reminded her, slowly turning his attention back to her. "I've told myself too many times, and talked myself out of it too many times."

He found her with hands on hips and head down, pacing the floor of the living room.

"Then talk, Killian," she sighed restlessly. "Get whatever you have on your chest off, because I didn't realize when I walked into this house that I should've been prepared for a fight." Her head came up then, fierce and fiery green eyes meeting his.

It may not have been the physical pull and shutting out that she was giving others, but the emotional pull and shutting out that she was giving him was far worse. That's what this was: hidden behind anger was nothing but Emma guarding herself, from him. She offered him a chance to speak, but how much was she willing to hear? Then there was her. How much would she share? How willing was she to open up and discuss whatever this was that not only was she dealing with, but the both of them?

Was it pretentious of himself to believe it was about the baby? Was it pretentious of himself to believe that her issues were the same ones that haunted his own mind?

"Don't do that, Emma." It wasn't anger in that moment that compelled him. It was the pain that had been lingering inside him for so very long.

"Do what?" Her eyes widened again on him.

"Don't get defensive, because that is not what this is about," he muttered quickly.

A sharp shoulder came up in a hard shrug. "No, because what it's really about," she shared with a firm finger pointing right at him, "is a pregnancy that is nonexistent and how you want me to feel about it."

She'd said that she wasn't ready for a fight, but it was pretty damn hard to tell by the ferocity in her words and in her stance.

Killian found himself staring at her with gaping mouth, taking her in and trying his damndest to understand where he was supposed to steer the conversation-bordering-on-fight now.

"I'm not trying to make you feel any way, Emma," he told her in a measured voice.

She offered a stuttered laughed of certain disbelief, her fingers gripping tight into her waist. "That's laughable, Killian."

"What I want is for you to be honest with me about what you feel," he continued, trying very hard to not let her words cut him to the bone. "I want you to… tell me." He swallowed hard and quickly. "Tell me, confide in me, if this is… all about that. That's what I want."

Emma bit down on her lip just as she tipped her chin. "Because it's so odd for me to throw myself into work?"

She was baiting him. She was willing to take him around in circles.

Killian didn't want to be baited. He wanted her to talk.

"Then… is it work, Emma?" he asked softly, knowing instinctively that it wasn't. It wasn't, was it?

It wasn't. If she turned this into a work thing…. If she wouldn't talk to him about their attempts at getting pregnant, and what was going through her, between the dates of a negative test and ovulation, then what did that say about them?

How many times had he seen the excitement in her eyes as the prospect of being pregnant? How many times had he seen her lose a piece of herself when a test offered nothing but a negative result? How many times would she have rather fallen asleep on her side of the bed and he on his side of the bed while abandoning an attempt to get pregnant?

How many times?

Perhaps it would have been better if it was a work thing. Then that would mean that his wife wasn't closing herself off from him over one of the most significant events in their lives.

"You want this to be about us, Killian?" Emma's hands slid up and down the length of her waist, her eyes crossing over his face. "You know what? We don't have to go through this because it only ever goes one way. You do realize that, don't you?"

There was a bit of sadness laced in the anger. No, he didn't know what she meant. The tilt of his head and the furrow of his brow should have told her that.

"No?" she asked lightly, swaying in a step towards him and then back again.

"What are you-"

"It doesn't matter what I say, Killian," Emma said, shaking her head slowly. "Because it only leads to the always-there optimism."

It wasn't only her declaration through the words but also the way those words were laced with disgust and pity. He felt the scrunch of his eyes as confusion clouded his brain.

"What does that mean?"

Her gaze fell away from him, her arms came to wrap around herself until she was holding on tight.

What was she thinking? Did he know what she was thinking? Because he wanted to believe that somewhere inside of her, she knew this was a conversation, an argument, that they needed to get out. There had been those times when he'd been almost out of his mind because of the way Emma pulled away. There had been those times when he had questioned himself on was it better to stay silent or… not. Had Emma? Were there times when she had wanted to not be silent, but vocal as well? Were there?

In a flash, Killian remembered the tight hold she'd had on his shirt. He remembered her letting him hold her, but only briefly. Briefly, before she was pushing away again.

"It means that I don't have time for everything I say, everything that I feel, to be brushed off by you because you're the optimist between the two of us," Emma shared with him, her head tilting as she shook her head.

It was more than only a lace of sadness. The amount of defeat in her voice, her stance, was too much to ignore.

"You sent Connor upstairs to avoid any of this, so I hope you remember that when I head upstairs." Her eyes locked on something passed him. When she moved it was with a beeline towards the staircase.

It was his fault as much as it was hers. How had he not realized that?

Killian felt the scrunch of his face, his eyes narrowing on hers and his teeth sinking into his lip as he watched his wife move away from him. She couldn't do that. Not this time.

"You don't get to run away from our problems." Even as he said it, he felt the scowl overtake his face, felt the fear bubble up inside him. "Emma." He caught her by the arm as she attempted to pass, his hand closing around her until she was spinning around to face him. "You don't get to run away from us, Emma!"

The surprise on her face was quickly dismissed and replaced by skepticism.

"Who's running?" she breathed out, her head shaking only once.

"You are!" He knew that she knew what he meant. He knew she was so good at closing herself off and running when she felt she had to. "You've had your say, and now it's time to run." He knew her, and that was what made him slip even closer to her. "Don't do that, Emma."

She stood there, stock still and with a blank stare. Even as his fingers traveled down the length of her arm and he pressed closer to her, she stood there.

"I'm here." Her words weren't as stiff as her stance. "I'm not running."

She knew, didn't she? Killian swallowed the lump in his throat as he kept her close. He needed to keep her close. What he needed even more was to get through to her, to see her, finally, open up to him.

I'm sorry. The words almost fell from his mouth, but he kept them in. Instinctively, he knew it wasn't the right thing to say. So what did he say?

"What else do you want me to say, Killian?" Emma asked between her teeth. She hadn't encouraged his embrace, but she hadn't pulled away either. There was a stiffness to her that would be hard to melt away. "What don't you know?"

There was so much, wasn't there, that he didn't know.

He'd found the right woman, hadn't he? Killian felt the sting of tears in the back of his closed eyes. There had never been anyone but Emma that had ever stirred such a depth of emotion from him. Even through the facade, he felt her pain, felt it seeping through him. It was because her pain was his pain. And for the first time… he wasn't going to let them turn their backs on one another over this not. Not anymore.

His hand on his arm and his body flushed against hers wasn't enough. Killian opened his arms, bringing Emma in closer to him and wrapping around her back to keep her there. His cheek fell against her temple as he gave all of himself into that hold.

It was his turn, to be honest, to be open.

"Loving you came easy to me, Emma," Killian murmured quietly close to her ear. It was then that he felt the first tear slip down his cheek, feeling the flutter of his eyes behind the closed lids. "Seeing my future and what it could be came really easy. With you… with you, there were no doubts. I… fell in love with you. I wanted to make you my wife. I wanted to make you and Henry my family, giving us all something that… perhaps we never had or… what we hadn't had in a very long time."

Emma's slight pull back could have given him pause, could have caused him to let her slip away, but it only made him hold on to her tighter.

"All of that came easy, Emma," he continued, more strongly this time. "But everything isn't always easy, Emma. It wasn't easy seeing you pull away from me when you had to. It was a hell of a struggle for me to be the man that you needed me to be. I wanted to be selfish. I wanted everything in that moment. But… it also showed me how damned lucky I was when I finally had you, knowing it was going to be forever."

Emma's head bobbed a bit, her forehead coming in contact with his cheek. This time, she didn't pull back.

"Emma, everything doesn't always come easy for us." There was a part of him that wanted to pull her back, to be able to look her in the face. "I can't lie. You've known for almost as long as I have, I've never kept it a secret." He paused, licking his lips and tasting tears on his tongue. "Just as much as I want you and Henry, I want to expand this family of ours."

He expected the pull then, expected that his truth would be too much for her. Perhaps that's what he'd always been scared of: the truth being too much.. He hadn't expected the hand that fisted into his shirt that pulled her closer to him. He hadn't expected the small sniffle or the way her head bowed into him.

"I know it's been a long time." It left his mouth as a tremble, and his own arm tightened its hold on her back. "I know it's stressful, which doesn't help overall. It's just…" He did believe. He believed that it was going to happen for them. He wasn't giving up hope just yet. And he wasn't in the habit of telling her that only because he thought she needed him to be strong for her. He told her that because it was the truth.

"Emma?" Bloody hell, he hadn't expected the tears, he hadn't expected the sudden and involuntary shudder of breath. "Love?" Killian could have said the words, could have said them once more, but… His face found her neck, burying deep while trying to hold onto himself as well as her.

Silence, save the noticeable breathing.

She wasn't pregnant, but it didn't matter. When he had her, it didn't matter. If she'd bloody share with him, not turn away...

Killian moved then, opened his eyes through the wetness of tears, and pulled her back to finally look at her.

Emma wasn't as composed as he'd thought. That layer, the guard, wasn't the same.

"I want… you to know, Emma," he told her almost fiercely, needing her. "I want to… to be vulnerable and share with you."

He saw the visible swallow, saw the glisten in her own eyes.

"Be vulnerable with me!" Killian's fingers slipped over her cheek as his knees bent, bringing his eyes to level with her own for the first time. "Emma… be vulnerable with me."

Her eyelashes fell onto her cheeks, the tears rights behind. She gripped blindly at his arms, clutching him like a lifeline.

"It's been… eleven months." This time, it wasn't strong. It was broken and weak. It was vulnerable.

"I know," Killian whispered, a small tear in his heart feeling patched by her words

"Killian…" It was a brokenhearted whimper that spoke volumes. Emma's eyes opened again, meeting his at once.

Damn, the raw pain he saw there almost tore him down.

"What if…" Her gasp of air was sudden, her eyes widening on him, honest and open.

She was back in his arms in that very second, the tear in his heart ripping apart as he held her tighter than he remembered ever holding her.

"It's only been eleven months, love," he murmured into her neck. He buried his nose there while he hugged her even tighter again. She hated the words, he knew that, but it was a truth he needed to hold on to.

"That's almost an entire year, Killian!" It was sheer pain as she clutched her fingers into his shoulders.

The pain radiating from her hurt him deep to his core. Killian knew that she was hurting. How was he supposed to make her see that all hope wasn't dead when the pain was that deep?

"What if... I can't…" Her hold on him couldn't be tight enough, her nails scraping at his arms until they reached his shoulders, holding on for forever. "What if I can't get pregnant?"

And that was her biggest fear, wasn't it? That was the conclusion she had been fighting for months.

Killian's answers to the veiled hints to the bigger issue: It would happen. It's only been this or that long. It didn't mean that it wouldn't happen.

So what had she done? She lived with the fear and the sadness, all on her own. Her fear and sadness had been her own, but it had been nothing but real.

"What if I can't give you want you want?"

Bloody-

In the second Killian looked up to her, Emma buried her own face deep into his neck, shielding herself from his gaze but not his hold.

"You're what I want, Emma." It hurt like hell to say, but not because it wasn't true. It was because it was true. Killian's hands grabbed at either side of her face, pulling her away from his neck and forcing her to look at him.

It was only after she tore her eyes open, it was only after she gave him that before he continued.

"I want you, Emma," he whispered, his voice raspy and broken even to his own ears, staring right into her eyes. "God, Emma!" Even when they made a tearful mess, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. "God, all I need is you. I'm… I am nothing without you. I don't need a lot in life." His fingers dipped into her hair, sifting through and using the feel to calm him down. "But I do need you. I need you so bad. Doesn't this tell you that?"

Perhaps it did, because whatever barrier she'd had left inside her broke, a shakened cry escaping as her shoulders shook. She dropped her face back against his neck, the unbridled sob becoming louder against him.

The way she clutched and clawed at him didn't scare him. It gave him life.

"I need you, too, Killian," she murmured into his skin. "I do. I need you."

He knew that, didn't he? He thought he knew that. She'd always been strong, always had a will about her. It was when she turned away, when she went inside of herself and dared not let him in, that the fear crept inside him. Sometimes… It had been a thought on his mind. Did she need him? Did she need him the way that he needed her?

She said she did. Buried deep into him, she'd said she did...

"Say it again, Emma."Killian swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in his throat. He gripped his fingers in her hair, pulling her back. "Say it again."

"I need you, Killian," she breathed out. Her face was still full of pain, but there was something different this time.

There was a fresh sheen of tears in his eyes this time, but that was okay. She needed him…

Killian pulled her back against him, her face burying into his neck once more.

She needed him.

And, by God, he needed her just as much.


	15. Chapter 14

Hearing Emma's footsteps, Killian placed his laptop on the nightstand in front of him. He looked up to see that she was making her way to her side of the bed. Killian pursed his lips as his gaze slid back on the glow of the screen in front of him.

He didn't have issues with traveling, even overnight visits. He just wasn't looking forward to this one.

Killian absently plucked at the buttons of his shirt before slipping out of it. He felt the dip of the mattress as Emma crawled in on her side of the bed.

It was fairly late for them. There was no more time for checking emails. Not when his wife was in the bed next to him. He closed the laptop, leaving it resting there for the time being. Emma's side-lamp would be enough light, he decided, bathing his side of the room in darkness as he extinguished his own.

Emma was already laying down by the time he stood up and turned around to look at her. He felt the sudden tug of a smile, happy enough to find his own spot in the bed. He dropped his shirt on top of the hamper not far from him, and his shorts were the next to go, leaving him only in his underwear. Thoughts of hugging her close to his body sent him back to the bed in as few steps as possible.

He hadn't been holding his breath, but there was a definite sense of ease that washed over him when he slipped under the sheet and he got to wrap his arm around her waist. An even greater ease formed when her back disappeared and she rolled over into his arms.

Emma angled her gaze up at him, her eyes searching out his face silently.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

She'd gotten it out even before he'd had the chance to analyze her as well. Perhaps it was because she seemed content. Quiet, yet content.

Killian pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting it linger there for a moment. He was tempted to answer her with a simple _nothing._ Because, in all honesty, there wasn't anything _wrong._ He was reminded, though, of their promise to one another: openness and honesty. There had been enough of holding back and holding on to what they each considered individual or personal issues. No, it really wasn't _anything_ , but…

Killian pulled back, taking a moment to look at his wife. She eyes were clear, an invitation into her soul, as she waited for his answer. She pressed herself closer to him, her hands laying flat against his chest. Her content eased him even more.

"There's a political junket taking place in Springfield in a week," he shared. Then, inspiration hit. "Why don't you come with me, to Springfield, for a couple of days?"

He saw the skeptical raise of her eyebrow as her lips parted slightly..

"Do you think your schedule would permit a few days away from the store?" If he sounded hopeful, it was because he was. "It would be our last chance, with Henry being back soon after." A short getaway after finding themselves on a similar page sounded amazing. It sounded like something they could take advantage of together.

Emma was slow to lift a shoulder, even as she shrunk into her pillow.

"I don't know about that." Her eyes met his again. "I don't know if that's really a good idea anyway, Killian. I mean… work is good for me right now." Another shrug. "It keeps me grounded. It… It gives me something to focus on."

Killian pursed his lips, followed by a swift nod of his head, his fingers finding the small of her back and gently stroking her through the pajama top. It wasn't the answer he'd expected, but an answer he could understand.

"I don't know if I'll be able to get out of it," he murmured.

He knew she shared his thoughts when she pushed herself closer to her.

"I don't need you to be here, Killian." It was careful, yet sure. "I'm fine."

Killian didn't mean to let the skepticism seep out into his expression. It was hard to hide it though. She'd pushed so fiercely, had hidden significant pieces of herself and it wasn't the first time She had done it before. She had done it for years. She'd nearly perfected the act, hiding it from the world as a large.

"I can handle it," Emma amended, her eyes growing wide after reading his thoughts. "Some times are more difficult than others," she admitted quietly, "but I can handle it."

He shouldn't dwell. He shouldn't have let his mind turn towards worry, but he couldn't help it. No matter, though, because holding things in did nothing but help fester the doubt in them anyway.

"Are we handling this okay?" Before she even had a chance to answer, Killian planted his lips to her forehead, pressing a kiss there and holding.

Emma turned then, twisting around in his arm until her back was to him.

"I'm trying."

 _Trying._ The honesty was there. Her approach felt right, felt true, because _trying_ was exactly where he felt they were at in the process.

Pressing his hand into the flatness of her stomach hadn't been a conscious thought, but Killian left it there, pushing her into him. Holding her close left a warmth to spread out from his chest and throughout his entire body.

The silence that followed spoke volumes. Killian wondered what she was thinking. Even with their new understanding, he didn't want to push or prod. He didn't want to cause her pain for no reason other than wanting to know her own thoughts.

"Killian?" Emma's voice was little more than a whisper after a long pause.

"Love?" He felt the fierce frown, felt the shared pain he knew was plaguing her as much as he himself. He placed a kiss into her hair and waited, wondering which way the pain would go.

Emma brought her hand up to smooth over his arm, holding him there tight, securing their hold on one another.

"Maybe now isn't one of those times," she finally whispered. Her hand clasped to his just as she took in a deep breath.

The silence was back. Killian shut his eyes and buried his nose in her hair He let her hold on to him for as long and as tight as she needed to. Those moments used to be so brief. She would let him go so easily, so quickly. So he didn't mind the minute that passed. He didn't mind that her hold on him felt like a lifeline.

It was when her grip loosened, when he felt her sink into the mattress and just a little bit away from him….

"I think about how much time wasted," Emma said, the words sounding watery from in front of him. "I think about how we chose to wait and how long I stayed on birth control, knowing the whole time that we wanted a baby."

Killian slipped his foot between hers, locking ankles and pulling her closer. He shook his head, the frown returning at what she'd shared.

"We were married six months, love," he reminded her quietly. "We didn't wait long."

Emma shook her head, her fingers coming to interlock with his own.

"It's hard to not play the 'what if' game," she muttered. "If we hadn't waited, if _I_ hadn't waited, then-"

"It wasn't you, love." He couldn't hide the confusion in his voice.

"It was." Again, the defeatist tone returned. "You were waiting on me. To be ready. To tell you that I was ready."

"And we were enjoying being newlyweds, Emma," Killian reminded her. "I… I never thought we'd… go from the altar and straight into a pregnancy."

She was still and quiet, only the silent deep breath he felt her take in was any clue as to how she was feeling.

"I think about how young I was with Henry." Emma's voice had a faraway quality to it, sounding deep in reverie. "And then I wonder if that has anything to do with it." She gave a short shake of her head. "God! I was pregnant seventeen years ago."

Just one more fear she had been dealing with…

"Emma…" Where did he go from there? The truth! He stuck with the truth. "Emma, you're in the best of physical health. I…" It was the small twitch that had her shoulders hunching that gave him pause. She was fragile, his wife, he knew. "I understand how that could have been a worry of yours. I can understand the validity of it. But, Emma love, I don't think it's something we should fear. I truly don't believe that is going to factor in to our conceiving."

"It has to be something," she muttered quickly. "It has to be something." Her fingers tightened over his, and Killian imagined the tears that might be filling her eyes as she questioned everything about their lack of getting pregnant.

Killian swallowed down the feeling of unease and worry before he called out to her. "Emma?"

He didn't expect the sudden turn she did, rolling from one side to the other, bringing her to face him once again. Just as her arms wrapped around him, he wrapped her in his own arms, cocooning them together tightly.

"I want to say it's okay, and I'm trying so hard to let it be okay, but…"

Was this going to be them until the day she got pregnant? Were they going to be in this constant pain until their dream became a reality? Even if the hurt was shared openly between them together now, it wasn't going to make it any damn easier.

"Maybe we should…" Even as the thought dawned on him, after the brief and sharp pain subsided, he felt some of his own pressure begin to alleviate. If only it would do the same for her… "I know it hurts, because it hurts me as well." His fingers spread wide as his hand traveled the length of her back. "Perhaps we should take a break, Emma. Maybe… we should stop trying, for a while."

There. Maybe they should stop trying. The thought was out there in the open for both of them to come to terms with. If it meant putting a stop to that gaping hole that had been between them, widening with every month that passed, then perhaps it was the right thing to do.

Emma didn't look up immediately. He heard her sniffle once, then twice, and then a third time.

Her silence didn't make it easy to read her initial reaction to his thought.

"Not forever," Killian added, his fingers curling into her hair. "But perhaps after we have some time… to get back to us. Emma," he whispered against her forehead, "we've lost a piece of ourselves. That's not fair to us."

She lifted her head at that, and he was able to see the glistening of her green eyes.

Killian shook his head again, his heart breaking at the sight of her. "This was never supposed to cause us pain. It wasn't supposed to be some driving force to pull us apart. It should have been more fun than work." He tilted his head and brought his fingers to caress her cheek. "And when it started being more work than fun, when it began to leave us feeling stress…"

"You want to stop?" she asked watery again, her voice a quiet wobble.

Did he want to stop? Did he want to give up on growing their family?

Killian's palmed her cheek, holding firm as he looked his wife in the eyes.

"It hurt so bad, Emma, to see it not matter to you," he confessed. He saw the confusion in her brows and in the purse of her lips. "It hurt like hell to see it becoming a job." He swallowed hard, refusing to let go of the truth. "There were nights when I needed you, Emma. Just to love you, to be loved by you. When you shut down, when you'd lay there and... " Killian tilted his head as he watched her do the same. "I may be insatiable, love, but I'm insatiable for you and our love."

Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes held all the wonderment in the world. "Killian, I'm-" Her eyes closed languidly as her cheek brushed softly against his hand.

Bloody hell, together they were a ball of emotion! Killian kissed her lips quickly, holding there, taking a moment to let all the pain and hurt and feelings subside.

It was Emma who opened her mouth and angled her head. It was she who deepened the kiss, changing it from something innocent into something quite passionate.

And it was Killian who was the first to pull back, breaking the kiss and finding her eyes once more.

"If we take a break, if we stop trying for a while," he murmured quietly, "perhaps it'll give us the time we need to get back to our truth. It'll help the stress and the pain to go away."

The tears were still there in her eyes. Or perhaps this was a fresh batch. Emma nodded, and then she smiled. The smile turned into a small and relief-sounding laugh.

"I think you're right," she finally agreed. "Killian." Her eyes fell closed as she leaned her body into his. "Maybe for a little while. Maybe." Her arms were around him again as she buried his face into the crook of his neck. If her sigh was any indication, then she, too, could feel the stress already washing off her in waves.

"Then we're done for now," Killian breathed out.

It would be a good thing. It was already a good thing. It was going to be a good thing for Emma. He knew all of that. So he ignored that quick, brief, and fleeting feeling of sadness.

"Killian?" His name was breathed into her neck after long minutes of silence.

"Yes, my love?"

Another tick or two. "Thank you, Killian."

His arm pulled her tighter against him.

"I love you, Emma." He placed a kiss on the top of her head before closing his eyes.

Her kiss came at the column of his neck.

"I love you, too, Killian."

* * *

There was a part of Killian that envied Emma's restful slumber. There was another part of him that didn't mind being up half past two in the morning. As long as Emma slept, as long as she didn't catch him.

Killian glanced up at the ceiling above him, straining his ears as he listened for any sound coming from the floor above. Of course, it was all quiet.

He looked back at the sketchpad resting on his knee and in his hand. The pencil in his other hand began to move, meeting lead to paper. It wasn't the right book. The right sketchbook was somewhere in his office at the paper, the sketchbook that was filled with pictures of a baby not yet named. Hell, a baby not yet conceived!

There had always been the discussion: how much would he, or she, look like Emma? This time, _he_ looked a lot like Emma, with hints of his dad here and there.

He would have been only about a year old, a new walker with chubby arms and legs. A smile on his face that reached his green eyes. The unruly curl of the ends of his hair was just an adorable addition, all the more prominent with the more active he becomes.

Killian captured the mid-step, arms out for balance and one foot an inch or so off the ground. Perhaps it's Killian's smile, but Emma's chin, Emma's dimples, Emma's eyes. He looks so much like Emma.

What in the hell was he doing?

The pencil stilled in Killian's hand and his eyes flew up once more towards the ceiling.

What he'd told Emma had been the truth. They needed to take a break. Trying to get pregnant had overtaken their lives. It had left Emma with an insurmountable amount of stress. Killian had been close to a breaking point as well. So what was the best thing to do? It was to stop, to push pause on keeping track of dates of fertilized periods, ovulation, menstrual cycles. Damn, he had learned more about the female body than he'd ever thought he could know.

It didn't mean that he was worried. He still knew that their day would come. Perhaps that was what made it easier for him. He wasn't giving up on the idea of having their family one day. It was going to happen. They were going to have their baby. So maybe it was okay to stop concentrating so much on it.

Says the man who was sitting up at two thirty in the morning, drawing his future son!

The peacefulness that he had seen in Emma proved him right, though, Killian mused to himself. Even though the days since they first talked, he'd still seen the hurt in her. Of course he'd seen the hurt. He had been hurting as well. Sharing with one another had helped, he knew that. He appreciated, more than she probably knew, the fact that she had turned to him. She hadn't walked away, turned her back on him, went silent. No, she had turned to him. After such a long time of not having that, Killian knew the beauty of it

This break would give her more peace. It would give Killian more peace. But it didn't mean that he was giving up on their dreams. This baby was his dream.

Killian ran his finger across the edges of the drawing. He let the feelings of want wash over him. Then he tried to find comfort in the thought that, one day, this life would be real.

That was good enough, wasn't it? Wasn't it?

He'd have to put the sketchbook in his satchel. He'd have to make sure that it went down to the office to be with the other…

Yes, it was good enough. For now, it was good enough. Because, for now, his wife had to be top priority. Her health, her happiness, her wellbeing. For now, their family was whole with just the three of them.

Killian smiled to himself, looking down at the would-be blonde curl hanging just below the ear.

One day, they would make a beautiful baby. One day, he knew they would...


	16. Chapter 15

"I could go with you."

Emma slipped her fingertips over her opposite arm as she glanced over at her husband. His gesture was nice. She knew he wasn't saying it because he thought that was what he was supposed to say or because that was what she wanted him to say. She knew he meant it.

She watched as he packed not only his satchel with last minute folders and packets, but also grabbed at Emma's work bag.

"No, I'll be fine," she murmured in answer. "It's just a consultation. A simple and routine physical." She shook her head, feeling the frown on her face but knowing it wasn't a big deal. "You have work to do at the office today. I don't need you to go with me."

Killian tossed the strap of his satchel over his head and across his shoulder as he held her bag out for her to take. He took a moment to look her over. It looked like a bit of worry. Hopefully, that wasn't the case. Simple. Routine. That was it.

"Are you sure, Emma?" he asked, sounding unsure himself. "This is pretty big, isn't it?"

She took in an involuntary deep breath and held it for a second. Was Killian right? Maybe a little. Well, maybe just a little…

Emma had gone back and forth on the idea of the antidepressants. There had been a part of her that feared she wouldn't be able to manage the depression through therapy alone. She'd been more than a little scared that she would lose a part of herself, spiralling into the same deep hole that she had worked so hard to get out of. She didn't want to go back.

So, maybe, the antidepressants would help. It was just that… since the moment her husband had cornered her and forced her to open up to him- God, she loved the man for that!- there had been a definitive loss of that feeling inside her. She needed therapy, she needed Archie and everything he afforded her professionally. She also needed Killian. That had been the missing part. Emma had let herself move away from that, unknowingly. The more she'd done it, the more she'd forgotten how much she needed him. Now that she had him…

"It's just a consultation, Killian," Emma reminded him once more, offering a small smile this time. "It's just to see what the doctor thinks about the assistance of antidepressants. It isn't me... being prescribed anything."

Standing right in front of her, Killian still looked doubtful, his lips pursing and his eyes roaming over every inch of her.

"I wish you would have consented to going to Springfield with me tomorrow," he told her with a shake of his head. "Even if this _is_ only a consultation, I wish we could have more time to talk about it. Or get your mind off of it." The look he gave her was pensive as he stood straight in front of her. "Summer's over and Henry will be home in practically days."

She knew just as well as he did what everything was adding up to: the end of the summer would bring with it their reality. A week filled with trying to be on the same page for the first time in a long time had been exactly what they needed. But was it enough? Had it been enough time, or would they be destined to those pitfalls again?

"What's wrong?" Emma sighed. "Worried about us?" She wasn't worried, but was he?

Killian tilted his head and returned her sigh. "I've never been more sure about us, Emma," he told her, his eyes squinting just so.

She almost sighed again, but instead of the sigh, she smiled tremulously at him.

"But," he continued, "with Henry home, we'll begin to get back into the thick of things. We'll get back to our regular family schedule." Killian took in a breath and shook his head. "Perhaps I feel bad that we didn't let ourselves be more carefree this summer."

Emma tilted her head. "It wasn't wasted." And when she saw the way Killian's mouth slacked open, she shook her head. "It wasn't… Killian. It wasn't wasted." She paused, letting her words sink in a bit before she continued. "Anyway, I'm sure we'll get another chance when Henry's home. It's the year of the college tours, right?"

Killian offered her another smile. "There _are_ the upcoming college tours to look forward to. Some much needed and appreciated family time." He placed a hand to the small of her back and held there as he looked about the room. "Do you have everything you need, love?"

At the question, Emma felt her heart flutter. Her smile was small on the outside, but huge on the inside. With him by her side, how could she not have everything she needed?

She nodded her head. "I have everything. I'm ready to go."

It wasn't often that they both left the house at the same time, but it was something fitting about being together this time.

With his hand still at her back, Killian nodded.

"Let's get out of here then," he murmured, leading them just to do that. "Will you call me and let me know how it goes?"

It was Emma's turn to nod. "I will."

Watching her, Killian offered her a smile. The worry was still easily detected, but so was the love. It was the love that warmed her heart. It was the love that made everything truly okay.

* * *

Antidepressants meant sealing the idea of pausing the act of getting pregnant.

Emma couldn't help it be a thought on her mind as she sat only in a paper gown, the paper lining the table shifting and crinkling loudly with every move she made in the silent room. Maybe she should have let Killian come. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn't been left with only her thoughts to keep her company.

They'd given up… No, they were pausing…

Emma tried not to think of it as a failure. She tried to focus on the fact that she and Killian both agreed that they needed a chance to get back to them and their marriage. And that was true. It was evident in the week that had passed.

They were already in a better place. There had been so many times that she had wanted to turn to Killian, only to let herself feel as if she couldn't, to feel as if he couldn't understand her point of view. When he couldn't understand her, then what was the point of sharing? Why did she need to hear the inevitable positivity when she was feeling low?

There _was_ a reason for it. There was a reason as to why she needed to share. And when he didn't get it, when the positivity was too much, it was important for him to understand her side. He couldn't do that without _hearing_ it from her side.

They'd been through a lot over the last week or so. They had become so much better over this last hump. It felt… It felt… as if she was already in a better mindset. She was already in a better place.

Would it last? Emma _wanted_ it to last. She wanted Henry to come home to normal and have them be normal, to be _them._ She _thought_ it could last. Maybe she wouldn't even need this drastic step. It wasn't that she was happy to have to pause the chance of getting pregnant. She wanted their baby more than anything. She also wanted to stay in the healthy frame of mind when she got there.

So…

Maybe…

Emma sighed, but kept from rolling her eyes. Maybe she should have let Killian come. Maybe it would have been better to have him hold her hand through all of this, just like he wanted to.

Emma eyed her clothes sitting in the chair in the corner. Her phone was there, too. She was tempted to stand and….

A drum of knuckles hit the other side of the door, followed by the knob twisting and the door silently coming open.

Emma sat up straight as she watched Dr. Cherukuri enter the room, file in hand and eyes glued there.

"Sorry to have kept you for so long," she apologized, offering up a smile. The doctor moved quickly across the room,coming to Emma's side and giving her a quick once-over.

"No problem," Emma assured her. Her hands fell into her lap and she tried very hard to quell the urge to twist her fingers into knots.

Dr. Cherukuri blinked at her this time, taking a moment to pause before she began to speak. "Let's talk for a little bit. I know you came here with ideas of being prescribed antidepressants."

Emma was slow to nod. "Um, yes." She frowned. "I just wanted an opinion on where I should go from here."

It was Dr. Cherukuri's turn to nod. "Right." She sighed as she looked down at the chart for a quick second. "We've also done a complete physical as well. Emma, I have a question for you."

She felt herself swallow as she waited for the doctor to ask whatever question she had on her mind.

"When was the last time that you took a pregnancy test?" she asked curiously.

The question almost threw Emma for a loop, her eyes fluttering. " _Taken_ a pregnancy test? Um… It would have been a few weeks now." Her mind struggled to think in terms of dates. "It would have been some… four weeks or so. Maybe."

"Four weeks?"

The way she had asked. The curiosity still lacing her voice.

Emma lifted her shoulder in a shrug. "Maybe five. There was no point in doing so this time around. Not after our decision."

"And you noted that…." Dr. Cherukuri's eyes searched the chart. "Your last menstrual cycle was in mid-July."

"Stress," Emma murmured. Her shoulders caved in on that note. The amount of stress that she'd been under had lessened considerably, but the memory was still a painful one. "It happened before, so…"

The doctor looked up suddenly, a smile lifting her lips.

"Yes, that could have been one possibility."

Emma tilted her head, feeling unsure about the roundabout conversation she was having with the doctor..

"But in this case, I'm going to have to say that would be the wrong diagnosis." She shook her head, her eyebrows lifting. "Emma, you're pregnant."

Her fingers gripped tight at the edge of the examining table, her lips fell apart, and her head fell forward. How was it that a dozen thoughts could travel through her mind in the space of two seconds, from _Emma, you're_ to _pregnant_? Because in the space of two seconds, there were a dozen possibilities of what was going to finish that statement. All of which had nothing to do with what she thought she'd heard.

 _Emma, you're pregnant._

Who had doused the bucket of ice cold water on her, leaving her body shivering in shock?

It was a trick. Some awful trick that either the doctor was playing on her, or maybe even her own ears. Because there was no way either Dr. Cherukuri had said those words _or_ she could have mistakenly heard them. No. Whatever she'd just heard was all a lie. Her mind was playing tricks on her, because she couldn't have heard correctly. Had she? Tears sprung into the corner of her eyes even as her brows drew together in pure confusion. It had to be a lie. Some awful and cosmic joke when she was just _now_ getting herself together.

Her world collapsed in on itself as she sat there on that table. Sitting perfectly still was the only way to even attempt to keep anything at all in place. It was only her eyes that moved at first. Growing wide on the woman in front of her, she stared in absolute disbelief. It was her mouth that finally moved next. Her lips parted as her eyes blinked over and over.

"I'm…" Her voice came out as a quiet and dry whisper. "I'm…" It didn't even feel right to say. If she said it aloud, would everything disappear from her?

"You're pregnant," Dr. Cherukuri confirmed once more for her. There was an almost laugh that escaped her. "You've been actively trying to conceive, yes?"

The question had the last year flash through her mind with a rapid-fire quickness. The decision to try only six months after getting married. The excitement of her husband. Killian…. _Killian!_

"Yes, we've been trying for exactly one year," Emma murmured, losing focus on the doctor in front of her.

"Your last menstrual cycle was in mid-July, you said?"

 _Mid-July…_ She'd been so painstakingly meticulous when it came to tracking every step of her cycle for nearly an entire year. Her last period was… _in July._ It wasn't due to stress. It wasn't?

She was…

"Emma?"

She didn't know what startled her the most… She lifted her gaze up to the doctor.

She needed just a second. A second to look at this woman who had said the words. A second to realize that this _wasn't_ a joke.

"I'm pregnant?" The wave of raw emotion overtook her, almost knocking her over. It wasn't quite… Her smile was tremulous as thoughts ran a mile a minute through her mind. Five weeks and she was suddenly being hit by a wave of nausea.

"If there was ever a time for congratulations, it would be now," the doctor said quietly. "You've been trying for a year, you say?"

It broke her resolve. That simple question broke whatever strength that had been keeping her up.

Her shoulders caved in on her as a sob escaped her mouth, making her clasp one hand over it while the other hand clutched at her flat stomach. It was flat, but there was a baby inside. It was her and Killian's baby.

Emma attempted a nod, one that felt wobbly at best. Her eyes settled on Dr. Cherukuri, a feeling of pure warmth flowed over Emma at what this woman had just given her.

Dr. Cherukuri's hand came to cover Emma's over her stomach, her smile genuine.

"Congratulations," she formally told her.

Emma's attempt at another nod was more successful this time, but it was all she had.

"Now, let's see how far along you are and how you're doing."

Emma nodded again. The stunned feeling hadn't had a chance to wear off just yet. Yet? She didn't know when it would ever go away…

* * *

She didn't even know how she was going to get through her work day. Thirty minutes back to the store, she felt as if she had the worst poker face. Wasn't she good at holding things in? Apparently, those were the bad things, not the good things.

Belle was away for the moment. That was a good thing. It meant that Emma could hold her flat belly under her hands and stare as lovingly as she wanted to, thinking of what was underneath. Because, underneath, was her baby!

She was six weeks pregnant. She had been pregnant for six weeks, unbeknownst to her. Unbeknownst to Killian.

Killian…

He would be a dad….

He was already a dad. Emma didn't have to keep reminding herself that he was Henry's dad, too. She knew it. She loved their special relationship. She loved that it felt like family as much as it _was_ family. But… this… This baby would truly be his. This baby would carry Killian's blood, would have his name, would be a part of Killian's life from the moment of conception.

Six weeks.

That meant… when they'd argued that day, when they became on the same page for the first time in a really long time, she was already pregnant.

Why did that matter to her? Why did that fact leave her simply happy? Emma was happy for _that day_. If it meant that she couldn't know about this baby weeks ago and she and Killian had a chance to work on them before the addition of their baby, it was all for the better. She wouldn't have changed that. She was happy that it wasn't the baby that brought them some peace, but each other. It had to be that way. It had to be! And it was!

Killian was leaving….

That was where the bad news came in. He was leaving in the morning. That fact was probably one of the reasons why she hadn't called him like he'd asked her to when her appointment was over. She couldn't have told him over the phone or in a text. She didn't even know if she could tell him later in the day, not when he had to leave

It should be special. They should be able to celebrate.

Maybe… it was okay to keep it to herself for a few days. Just a few days… Keep this miracle all hers for just a little while.

Emma heard the text come in on her phone from across the room. She moved quickly, knowing instinctively that it could only be one person. Killian would have checked up on her when she hadn't called as she'd said she would.

Her head tilted to look at the screen, a small smile covering her face as she saw his name.

 _How is everything going, love?_

Emma picked the phone up in her hands, the smile spreading, the warmth throughout her whole body spreading. She wasn't going to tear up, even if they would have been happy tears. She just wasn't going to do it.

"I'm pregnant!" she whispered giddily at the phone. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as her finger slid across the keyboard, answering his text. No, of course she wouldn't share that same bit of news with him, but it was exciting to say it aloud once more. Emma hadn't said it aloud enough times.

 _ **I'm sorry, Killian. I should have texted or called. Everything's fine. I promise.**_

 _No worries. I just wanted to make sure._

 _How are you feeling? That's a different topic altogether. How are you feeling?_

 _ **I'm really good. It was everything that I needed.**_

 _Then I need not worry anymore?_

 _ **Not at all.**_

 _ **I can't wait to see you. You have no idea how much I want to see you.**_

 _The fact that I leave tomorrow morning for Springfield, WITHOUT you I might add, only makes me wish you would have decided to go home instead of to work after your appointment._

 _I'll make it all up to you for our 4-year anniversary next weekend._

 _ **Killian, we really should pick out certain occasions that we're going to celebrate. If not, we'll have an occasion to celebrate every month.**_

 _Well, first meeting is important._

 _First meeting…. Engagement…_

 _ **I love you Killian.**_

 _Tell me again, Emma. Whisper it in my ear._

 _._

She wasn't going to tear up, even in happiness.

Emma answered Killian's call on the first ring.

"I love you, Killian Jones," she whispered into the phone, into his ear.

"I love you, too, Emma Jones," he whispered back, a ferocity in his tone. "See you tonight."

"See you tonight," she said, a smile in her voice. She moved the phone from her ear and disconnected the call.

Her lip was enveloped into her mouth, keeping the smile at a minimum.

A week or so. She could keep this secret to herself for a little more than a week. And then she would tell him. She would tell him exactly four years after she saw him standing in his doorway and across the hall from her. She would tell him exactly two years after he'd dropped down on one knee in front of her in that same hallway, asking her to take a chance of love and him.

Yes, she would.

Until then…

Emma's hand smoothed down over her stomach, another smile lighting up her face.

God, it was all worth it!

* * *

The first time she'd seen him in person…

Emma made her way through the house silently. She would have expected him to be either in the living room or the dining room. It would have been possible that he would have found himself upstairs, but it was the opened side door that lead her to her husband.

Leg propped up on the banister, Killian sat in his chair, balancing the computer on his lap. The fingers of his left hand controlled the mouse and his right thumb slipped back and forth over his bottom lip and chin.

He was going to be a dad…

Emma tried to banish the thought from her head. There was no way possible that she would be able to tell him now. She couldn't.

With her hand pressed to the door, she felt herself wince. It wasn't fair, was it? They had stood in their bathroom together for more pregnancy test than not. He was always there when she found out. He _could have_ been there today when she'd found out. It was more circumstance than anything else that he wasn't there to here the positive result given to her.

Maybe that was fate though…

No, she wasn't going to tell him today. She'd wait. For him to come home after his trip to Springfield. She'd wait until their anniversary.

As Emma's hand slipped down to the doorknob, she watched as Killian turned his head, catching her presence.

"Emma, love." His smile was bright, his blue eyes brighter. His foot slipped from the railing and the laptop was set to the side.

"Hey," she greeted him easily.

"You're home earlier than I thought you'd be," Killian murmured.

"I left a little earlier than I thought I would," Emma said quietly. She held up her hand as he began to rise from his seat, stopping him there.

"What's wrong?" He looked worried, his gaze narrowing on hers as he slid back down. "Is something wrong?"

Emma shook her head, her smile small as she lowered herself into his lap. Her arms went straight around his neck, looping there and bringing them all the closer.

"Nothing's the matter," she assured him.

He looked as if he wanted to take her at her word, but was unsure if he should. It didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close.

"How was your day, love?" he asked softly, his lips turning up in a smile.

He didn't know, did he? He didn't know that there was three of them sharing in that moment.

"It was amazing." Emma kept her smile small. "A big project just fell in our lap, so it looks like I'll be busier than I realized this weekend."

Killian lifted an eyebrow and his smile held a teasing quality to it. "And you're looking forward to that, huh?"

It made Emma nod of her head. "I am."

He brought one hand up to her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her skin.

"Killian?" she asked before he had the chance to say anything else.

"Yeah?" His eyes stopped tracking the path of his thumb so that he could meet her eyes.

She was pregnant…

They were going to have their baby.

"Make love to me." Before he could respond to her whispered request, Emma lowered her lips to his, opening her mouth and kissing him.

Apparently, she didn't make the request nearly enough…

Killian's hand on her waist became an arm locking around her. Emma's sweet kiss became his passionate kiss. Her request became his wish to be granted.

Holding on to her, Killian stood up from the chair, bending his body and guiding her leg to wrap around him.

She needed him. He had no idea how much she needed him. It wasn't selfish, was it, that need? That need to be as close as possible to her husband in a private celebration of the secret that was still all hers.

Emma whimpered at the feel of his hand caressing over her lower body as he attempted to hold her up and while moving them inside the house. The door banged closed behind them, knocking a little bit of reality into her.

"If your laptop gets stolen while we're in the house, I'm going to feel guilty," she murmured against his lips.

Killian groaned in response. Or maybe it was in response to the way her mouth slipped from his and over to his cheek and then down his neck. He stood there, just in front of the door, and let her trail alternate kisses and nibbles as she pleased.

She needed him. God, she really did need him! Emma tightened her hold around his waist, pressing herself even closer while her hand brought his head closer still to her mouth.

"Bloody hell, love." It came out as a strangled laugh. His hands worked against her, pulling her off of him at the same time he turned around to switch their positions. "Perhaps you're right." His eyes shone on her as she reluctantly slipped away from his body, his smile brilliant. "I'll be right back."

Emma took in a deep breath as she moved out of his way, letting him open the door and step outside.

That part of her that wanted to tell him about the baby began to rear its head again. Emma bit down hard on her lip, needing that part of her to go away. He was leaving in a matter of hours. It would be better to wait. She _knew_ it would be better to wait…

She turned around as she heard the door open again, watching Killian step into the house and close both doors this time.

"Is it wrong of me to have been hoping that you were at least _partially_ naked by the time I got back?" he asked with a squint of his eyes and a quick smile. The computer was deposited onto the dining room table in a matter of seconds.

Emma almost laughed at the predatory gait and wanting eyes as he scooped her up in his arms. It was the change in his eyes, though, sudden and distinct. It was the warmth and love that filled his eyes as he stared down at her, carrying her through the rooms in search of the one.

"I love you, Killian," she whispered, her arms locked around his neck tightening.

She felt his steps stutter as he watched her before he deposited her on the bottom step of the staircase.

"Say it again, Emma," he whispered back.

She was on eye-level with him. She leaned forward, brushing her lips against the scruffiness of his beard on their way to his ear.

"I love you, Killian," she whispered again, right into his ear. She felt him shudder against her, and it put another smile on her face. "Come on, let's go." Taking a backwards step up, she reached out her hand for his.

He took it willingly. He followed her willingly. And even though there was a hint of curiosity, a hint of absolute wonder in what had gotten into his wife since the last time he'd seen her, there was also an undeniable heat there, as well.

Maybe that was a turn-on as well; his unwittingness of what they were celebrating.

He may not have known about her surprise, her secret, _their_ baby… but he would know how much she loved him. She swore to herself that he would know how much she appreciated the man in her life and how much she loved him.


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N: This is the final chapter, but there will be two epilogues. It looks like this story will be finished by the season premiere in two weeks... I wanted to thank those who have constantly and consistently left me feedback on this story. I really appreciate each and every comment! And I hope you continue to like where this story has gone.**

* * *

"Woah, woah!" Killian craned his neck, trying to catch the _swoosh_ that was passing by his bedroom door.

Before Henry had the chance to get too far, his hand clasped the threshold of the door, slingshooting him back into full view of the bedroom.

His smile was approving, along with the nod of his head.

"You clean up pretty well, Killian," Henry complimented him, his smile growing a bit.

Killian couldn't help the arch of his brow as he took in his stepson's own appearance.

He'd gotten a little taller over his visit to Florida,.inching his way up to Killian's height soon enough. A week home and he still didn't seem to have plans to cut the hair that had grown a little longer than his normal. But perhaps a shave was in order, if he was to take into account the undeniable abundance of whiskers that darkened his upper lip and chin. Killian knew it had been a thought with every summer's end, but… Bloody hell, where had the time gone?

"So do you, my boy," Killian told him, his own smile covering his face. "When, you know, given a try." His eyebrow shot up as he gave the lad another quick once-over.

Henry returned the extra wide smile. His hands gripped one after the other at his neck before falling down the front of his chest. The late summer temperature found Henry dressed in a comfortable-enough looking red and blue-striped T-shirt under the well-worn navy blue cotton jacket. hoodie.

"Well, it's supposed to be an easy night, so…" Henry lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

Killian kept in the dawning nod of his head and simply asked, "Violet, is that it?"

Henry hadn't been back that long, but it seemed as if all the apprehension he'd had prior to the start of his summer was gone. Whatever romantic entanglements that had been there before seemed to be right in front of him once more.

"Yeah," Henry confirmed, not quite as shy as it once would have been. "Are…" His head tilted and his eyes narrowed on Killian from across the room. "Are you two going to be out late tonight?"

Now _that_ drawn out and curiously asked question made it quite difficult to defuse Killian's smile. He mirrored Henry's head tilt.

"I'm sure we'll be in by curfew," he mused.

Henry's huff of laughter held a hint of knowing to it. His chin lifted towards Killian before he took a quick look behind him and out the bedroom door.

"Um… Mom." His gaze swung back around and fell to his shoes for a moment. "Mom? She's been looking really good since I've been back." Henry glanced back up, a small smile on his face. "I'm going to guess that it wasn't only a break from me that helped put a real smile back on her face." It was more than just a curiously look this time. There was a need to know something, to have confirmation.

The jest sobered Killian automatically. Henry had done enough worrying about his mom in his lifetime. He wasn't supposed to do that anymore. Especially when Killian was there. Not because it was more so his job to do the worrying, but because Killian was supposed to make the worry go away. At least, that type of worry. The kind that said that something was quite wrong, and there was a right to be worried right back for the woman herself.

He moved then, stepping closer to his stepson. Killian reached his hand out for Henry's shoulder, letting his eyes fall over the lad's face.

"I know Mom's looks, Killian," Henry breathed out as he shifted from foot to foot. "I know… _that_ look." He blinked right at him. "But… it's not there anymore," he whispered.

Killian was supposed to say… something. He knew he was supposed to say something. Henry had caught him off guard, leaving him emotionally stunned for just a moment.

"I'm sure that has something to do with you," Henry continued, peering expectantly at his stepfather with wide eyes pursed lips.

Killian offered up a quick and easy smile. "And I'm sure it has nothing to do with being rid of you for a few months," he whispered back. He knew Henry wanted confirmation, though, not just jest. "I'm glad your mom is feeling a lot better as of late, as well." His hand slipped away from Henry's shoulder and he took a big enough step backward so that he could look at him.

"So…" Henry took a step back of his own, his hands slipping easily into the pockets of his pants. "You'll be back by curfew, huh?"

Killian's lips parted as his eyes widened on Henry, watching the nervous curiosity cross over the boy's face as his hands stuffed themselves even deeper into his pockets. Apparently, what little assurance he had given Henry was enough to put his mind to rest and to go back to something that might have been just as important.

"Go on and get out of here, you randy git," Killian muttered quickly at him, lifting his chin in the air and jutting it towards the door.

Henry offered up a small laugh. He turned on his heel, removing his hands out of his pocket and lifting them in surrender in mid-air.

"I'm going to Google that, Killian," he assured him. "I think I'm supposed to be taking offense to it." He threw a look over his shoulder before walking out of the room. "See you later."

Killian shook his head, biting back the grin that threatened to overtake his face.

"Goodbye. And have a good evening."

"Hey." Henry's hands clasped the door jam, turning around so that he was giving Killian his full attention.

"Yeah, Henry?"

He offered up a classic smile that spoke of all the ease a newly seventeen-year-old boy was supposed to have. "Happy anniversary, Killian."

There was something... quite right about that moment. "Thanks, Henry."

He watched the boy disappear, his own smile lifting the corners of his lips as Henry passed by. There was a renewed excitement in him, but also peace. Henry was good. Emma was good. That all equaled to Killian being good. And being good… being good was one of the best feelings in the world.

* * *

Emma was much more… cerebral than he thought she would be. Not… unhappy. Not… worrisome. Just… cerebral. Quiet. Perhaps... in her own head? Why? Why now? And why all of a sudden?

Killian offered up a lift of his lips as he watched her cut into the good three-quarters of roasted chicken breast that was left on her plate. She wasn't usually a picky or slow eater. It made him glance down at his own plate of char seared yellowfin tuna before turning back towards her.

"Perhaps… dinner was scheduled at… at an inopportune time," he lightly suggested from across the table.

Emma looked up then, inhaling a small breath as she did.

Killian's smile became bigger at just the sight of her. The curiosity at her quietness only stayed for a brief moment before it was overtaken by the sheer happiness of being there with his wife. His _wife._ She'd walked into his life four years prior, had been his wife for eighteen of those months. How could he not be stunted at the sight of her, at the thought of all that she was to him?

"What?" Emma asked, raising a single brow in confusion.

He tipped his chin towards her plate. "You don't seem to be putting much of a dent into your plate there. Perhaps we planned for dinner a little too early for your liking," he clarified.

Emma blinked, almost questioningly, before she shook her head. "No, the chicken is really good." And then there was something that overtook her features, a brightness that lit up her entire face as she bit gently at her lip. "How's the tuna?"

Killian looked down at his plate, his fork moving across the fish until a piece was flaking off.

"It's delicious," he huffed out. "Try some?" He lifted the fork and leaned across the span of the table, offering the bite out to her.

She countered with a quick move of her own, leaning back into her seat. This time, it was a small laugh that escaped her lips.

"No thanks," she said in way of apology, stabbing into the summer vegetables that accompanied the chicken. "I'm not really… craving tuna right now." Instead of the fish, it was a healthy bite of eggplant that was popped into her mouth.

"Hm…" Killian dropped his chin in concession. "As you wish, my love." Slipping back to his side of the table, he stuffed the truly delectable bite of tuna into his own mouth.

He found himself staring across the table at her as he chewed carefully, watching her attention being drawn to the plate in front of her. Emma was a bit more quiet, on a whole for that matter, than he'd ever thought she'd be.

Perhaps it was him. Perhaps he was seeing something that truly wasn't there. It wasn't that he wanted to find something amiss within her. But… he didn't want to dismiss something that might have been there either.

"I'm okay," Emma breathed out, her eyes flying up from her plate and meeting his. Her lips upturned into a smile just as Killian slipped back into his seat. She tilted her head and continued to survey him, apparently picking up on the curious vibes he was having. "I'm worrying you. I didn't mean to worry you."

So… perhaps it was just him.

Killian watched her closely from across the table. He felt himself swallow as he took in the still-small smile and the almost-sparkling green eyes. It wasn't that he wanted something to be wrong. He more than appreciated that the brief time since they'd really talked and worked everything out, they had returned to the couple that they'd been, the coupe they were meant to be. The stress seemed to have melted away in her. In turn, he had let go of a lot of the residual feelings he'd had, deciding to concentrate on the good between them. There was plenty of that, it was easily seen, once they'd let go of the bad.

For the most part, he took her words as meaning that she was okay. No, she hadn't meant to worry him, because there was nothing there to worry about.

Killian shook his head. "I'm sorry." He tried to smile, to alleviate some of his own dark thoughts.

"For what?" Emma's eyebrow jumped up and she huffed out a small laugh.

For what? Leaning slowly forward into the table, Killian let his eyes drift across her face.

"For even attempting to sully this moment, our _anniversary,_ by looking for anything that isn't remotely perfect," he murmured. Then he smiled, letting the reality of his happiness wash over him once more. "Because this night _is_ perfect, Emma."

Her own smile was a bit tremulous as her eyes blinked at him. "It's pretty perfect."

A strong feeling of love blossomed in his heart, filling him completely. He returned her smile and slipped him hand across the table towards her. Emma's hand appeared instantly, her fingers taking hold of his and tangling.

Killian's mind conjured up that moment where she stood just inside the doorway of her apartment, the first time his eyes had gazed upon her. Was it really four years ago? He'd had her in his life for four years, had been married to her for a year-and-a-half of that time.

He brought her hand towards his side of the table, lifting as he went. His lips dropped down over the soft skin there, taking a moment to breathe her in.

"Killian?" she sighed quietly.

He released her hand before looking back at her.

There was a bit of indecision on her face, he could tell. Her lips parted and her eyes roamed from him, to over his shoulder, and then, finally, back to him. Okay, there wasn't anything particularly _wrong_ with her, but her thoughts were her own in that moment.

Her shoulders hunched over and she offered another easy smile. "You make me really happy, and I hope you know that." She nodded this time. "You make me really."

The feelings were mutual…

Killian felt himself sober, taking in the easiness of his wife, but the gravity of what his life had become because of her.

"You make me really happy, too, Emma," he whispered thickly from across the table.

Her fingers came back, sliding across the table to caress him from wrist to fingertips. And then she moved, picking up her knife once more. Her attention fell back on her plate and her chicken, her utensils working together to cut another small sliver. But…

She was okay. She really was okay.

Good…

* * *

It should have been the gentle ripples of the water in front of them and coursing underneath them that held his attention. It could have been the way the lights of the city twinkled off in the distance. It could have been the shadows of ships docked at the harbor, masts and sails talk in the night skyline.

It was Emma.

With his arm around her shoulders, Killian let his lips slip across the soft skin on her neck and up to her cheek, alternating between soft kisses and lingering caresses.

It had been a perfect night. It had been the night that they needed.

So when Emma had said…

"I've been trying to figure out how to tell you something all night." She'd whispered it, a light airiness to her voice that held a hint of wonder to it.

Killian was slow to pull back, disengaging his lips from her skin so that he could look at her.

The look on Emma's face held that same wonder as her voice. He watched as her eyes danced across his face and the tiny lift of her lips into a smile.

Perhaps that was what he'd been feeling that night? Perhaps…

Killian licked his lip as she separated them further, scooting across their shared bench so that she could look at him.

"What is it, Emma?" There was a part of him that felt like he _could_ have worried, _could_ have been concerned by her need to share something with him that she had been holding onto all night. But there was a much more significant part of him that couldn't conjure up anything but happiness in the night that they were sharing.

Emma took his hand in both of her own, one cupping the back of his hand while the other smoothed across his palm. Her eyes traveled the path her fingers took over his skin.

What was on her mind?

"I've had some horrible moments, and I know that," she began, still looking into his hand. "I know that I let myself give up sometimes, and I didn't let you help me."

She paused, giving him a moment to swallow and pull his brows together in an unsure frown.

"Well," he started slowly, thinking carefully, "when you _could_ tell me, then you _did_ tell me."

Emma looked up at him then. "I know." Her frown wasn't as deep as his, but it was there. "Thank you for… everything, Killian. Thank you for… not giving up on me. Even when…" Her head tilted sharply as her eyes widened on him. "Even when it meant putting off the one thing I know we both want more than almost anything else in this world."

It was about… trying to get pregnant.

Killian's smile was easy. He leaned forward, letting his forehead lean into hers. His eyes closed as his fingers clasped on to her on.

"Your health and happiness comes first," he murmured quietly. His nose bumped against her own as his free hand found her cheek. "I need you, Emma."

He listened to her sigh, and closed his eyes tighter at the feel of her forehead drifted across his.

"Killian." Her hand fell over their locked fingers. "You remember when I made that doctor's appointment?"

It wasn't that long ago. "Of course." His lips pursed for a moment as he felt her hand tighten on his. "I know it was a step you didn't necessarily want to take, but-"

"You mean the medication," Emma muttered, cutting in. She pulled back then, separating them except for the hold of their hands.

She didn't seem bothered by it. She hadn't mentioned it at all. Which seemed like a positive outcome. It hadn't been something that was plaguing her. Or…

He hadn't realized.

Killian raised his hand to slip into the hair behind her ear. He watched her face for changes, and found nothing that worried him. In fact… there was something quite beautiful about arch of her brow, the thickness of her lashes, the color at the apples of her cheeks, the shine of her glossed lips.

Thoughts of their first date clouded his mind, thinking of the moment where they'd sat together much like they did now. On that night, he hadn't been ready to let her go, hadn't wanted their date to end. Now? Now, as his wife, he couldn't wait to take her home, to find themselves in bed, and to take his time showing her how much he loved her.

"I know you, Emma," Killian murmured softly to her, his head tilting towards her. "We, as a couple, reached a difficult point. A point that triggered your depression and made you seek help."

"I didn't do it." It was a whispered confession before her lips sought out his own. She kissed him softly, her body laying flushed against his before she pulled away again. "I didn't get prescribed the antidepressants."

Her confession surprised him, his brows lifting as he took in a small breath.

"You…" There was a meaning behind that, though. It made Killian smile and his head dipped slightly towards her. "Because you didn't need them?" he surmised. "Emma." She looked so good, had seemed to be in such a good place since that appointment. "Emma, are you sure?"

She giggled. A giggle that seemed to surprise even herself, Her hand left his to cover up that sound.

She _was_ happy. It lightened Killian's heart, making him remove her hand from away from her mouth so that he could kiss her.

Emma slipped her hand from his. Instead, both hands found his cheeks, pressing there as she kissed him back. Intimate and lingering pecks kept them together, until her mouth opened on his.

When she pulled away, when Killian struggled through opening his eyes and keeping them that way, she stared right at him.

Her mouth opened, letting in a hiss of air.

"That wasn't all that you've been trying to tell me tonight, is that it?" Killian guessed, based on the way she looked at him.

There was an easy smile that overcame her.

"I _couldn't_ get a prescription for antidepressants," she whispered. Her gaze became more intense, looking as if she wanted him to piece together the puzzle she had given him.

 _Couldn't…_ He didn't know if that was better than what he'd originally believed. He… wasn't… sure…

"Why?" Killian was hoping for a simple answer to his simple question. He offered her a smile, trying to focus on the fact that she was positive throughout their shared conversation. So… it couldn't be something bad. It couldn't be…

The playful giddiness seemed to drain from her face, though. Emma stared at him, her eyes traveling over every part of his face, not once but twice.

He saw the tear glisten the corner of her eye and watched the way her lips pursed tightly.

What hadn't she told him? What had been on her mind all night?

The fear that had stayed away as he watched her smile was now gone away at the sight of the tear still hanging there.

Killian pushed all ten fingers into her hair, angling her face so that he could look into those wide green eyes.

"You've gone silent on me, love," he murmured, knowing that his worry was easily detected by her. "What-"

Emma slipped her hand over his, pulling it away from her cheek. Her smile returned, but it was accompanied by the tear falling down that now bare cheek.

Killian felt himself, watching that tear. But it was her hand, guiding his… Lower, down her neck, lower, across her chest, lower still. He could feel her heart pounding under his hand as it moved still, could make out the heaving of her chest…

Fear consumed him, and he didn't know if that was the right feeling to have, because there was a tear sliding down her cheek and a smile on her face.

"I only waited because I wanted it to be special when I told you," Emma told him, her voice not much above a wavering whisper. "And maybe there was a part of me that liked keeping the secret all to myself." She lifted her shoulder in a quick shrug and her eyes drifted off to the side playfully before coming back to his.

Their hands paused over her stomach, and then both hands pressed his hard, sandwiching his hand there.

She'd paused there hands there…

 _You remember when I made that doctor's appointment?_

 _I didn't do it._

 _I didn't get prescribed the antidepressants._

 _I_ couldn't _get a prescription for antidepressants._

 _I only waited because I wanted it to be special when I told you. And maybe there was a part of me that liked keeping the secret all to myself._

Killian felt the automatic inhalation of deep breath through his nose, his chest puffing out and rising. His mind had gone somewhere. It had gone to some previously unattainable dream that he was supposed to had put away for at least a little while. Without the actual words, he didn't think that it was a good thing to stay there.

"What did you want to tell me, Emma?" His voice sounded oddly groggy to his own ears, thick with emotion that he couldn't keep from expressing. "Tell me." His fingers cupped over her flat stomach, pressing there more firmly. "Say it."

Her silence brought his eyes to hers, and he felt the awful strain gripping his heart, awaiting her truth.

Emma's eyes shone with unshed tears in both eyes now, and her smile was only half-hidden by the way she bit at her lip.

"Killian." She nodded her head, making the strain in his chest almost unbearable. "We did it," she whispered, nodding more vigorously this time. "I'm pregnant."

 _I'm pregnant._

She'd spoken the words that he'd given up on hearing any time soon. She _had_ spoken them, hadn't she? His wife had said…

He swallowed down the dryness of his throat and couldn't help the deep frown of pure confusion etching into his features.

They'd stopped trying. They'd given up. Bloody hell, they'd kept track of her cycle for nearly a year and now he couldn't figure out… anything. Couldn't put two dates together to come up with some kind of proof to what he'd thought he'd heard her say.

"We did it?" The murmur was thick, his mouth still quite dry from the surprise and shock.

There were a million questions Killian wanted to ask. There was a million questions swimming through his mind. But first of all… he had to make sure he'd heard her correctly.

"Emma, you're pregnant?" Her stomach felt the same under his palm. No bump. Nothing. "Are you certain?"

Her barely there laugh caught him off guard, surprise and shock causing his eyes to open wide.

"Seven weeks," she confirmed with a sigh. "Almost eight."

Whatever tension that had flowed through her seemed to drift away from her and all into him. Emma looked effervescent; There was an easy glow about her and a lightness that had been there… since the day she'd had her doctor's appointment. Killian had a feeling that his face was most likely flushed of color from utter shock.

"Seven weeks?" he repeated, awe-struck.

Once upon a time, Killian's life had consisted of him and his brother. His relationships had consisted of a number of random females who hadn't meant more to him than a night of casual conversation that would lead, hopefully, to a bed. (Preferably hers, if he was to be honest.) When two became three, then four, it was at Liam's doing. It was their family, but... it was Liam's, and Killian's only by extension. He'd met Emma and Henry along the way. They had become _his_ personal family. And now…

"Bloody hell," he blurted out, shaking his head, stunned. Killian slipped off the bench, onto one knee and then two. "Bloody… hell." His hands pulled at her waist, pulling her closer towards the edge of the bench.

Emma came willingly, her own hands finding his back and slipping over it as he placed his head in her lap.

"You're pregnant." Eyes closed, his hands moved up and down the length of her waist, his breaths coming in short pants. "Seven weeks. Seven weeks?" He looked up at her then, suddenly wondrous. "I thought-"

"The last pregnancy test I took gave a false negative," she whispered, already knowing what he would ask.

A false negative…

"You've been pregnant this entire time," Killian murmured, lifting his head and turning into her stomach.

"Well, at least for these past seven weeks," Emma teased.

There was a baby inside of her. It was _their_ baby, growing inside of her that very minute.

"Pinch me, love, I think I'm dreaming," he muttered, raising onto one knee so that he could kiss her right about her navel. Damn. Damn! "Better yet," he sighed as his eyes lit up from the hard pinch to his arm, "kiss me."

Killian was up on his feet in the space of a second, delicately taking her hands and pulling her up with him.

There was a bit of an awe about her, a bit of mystery in that beauty she possessed. He watched Emma take a bite of her lip again as she tilted her head with wonderment.

Her hands came up to slip across his cheeks, the flecks of gold in her eyes practically sparkling as she came closer. Killian shared her smile- a smile of contentment, of pleasure, of thankfulness- before her lips reached his.

It was a slow kiss, a thorough kiss, a kiss that meant something that seemed indescribable.

Feeling the way Emma's arms moved to lock around his neck, Killian brought his own arms to reach around her hips, dipping at the knee. His hands came together, locking around her, hefting her up in his embrace and holding her there closely.

She'd walked into his life four years ago, albeit reluctantly...

She'd changed him in ways that he hadn't known were possible.

He'd changed her, had affected someone else's life, in ways that he hadn't known he'd had the power to do.

He'd fallen in love, with her and the family she'd given him. And now… now she was giving him more.

Killian sighed at the feel of Emma's lips slipping from his own and over to his cheek. His arms held her closer, needing her close. Her lips trailed farther, brushing against the underline of his jaw, pressing into his neck.

"Killian?" His name left her mouth as a light whisper.

"Love?" He fought to open his eyes as he felt the absence of her lips to his skin. She was looking at him, her eyes still bright.

"Happy anniversary," she whispered. "And congratulations."

Staring up at her, Killian offered her an easy smile, feeling a sense of pure and unadulterated bliss settle into his chest.

He reached for her mouth again, kissing her with every fiber of his need for her. And he had no plans of letting her go any time soon.


	18. Epilogue Part 1

"Emma?" Her name left Killian's mouth as his half-asleep body twisted in her direction. His hand blindly reached for her as his eyes opened to the darkness.

What in the hell had awakened him? He didn't know what time it was, but it would have been the middle of the night, nowhere near enough hours of sleep under his belt to be awake at the moment.

Killian realized immediately what had awakened him as his fingers ran across the bump of Emma's belly. It was the twisting and turning that Emma had been doing, of her own,next to him. It was the same twisting that came to a sudden halt as she spoke.

"Sorry," she apologized in a low whisper. Her hand covered his own, guiding them both over the roundness of her nine-month pregnancy belly. "Go back to sleep."

Killian's eyes adjusted to the darkness, blinking over at her from his pillow.

"What are you doing awake?" he murmured back, ignoring her dismissal. "Is it the baby? Did you need something, love?"

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, Emma was slow to move, her hand leaving his so that she could press both hands into either side of the mattress. From there, she awkwardly pulled herself up into a sitting position.

Killian felt the lift of the corners of his mouth as he watched her. The discomfort was clear and present in her features, but she still looked rather beautiful and amazing to him.

"Contractions," she breathed out easily enough, followed by a huff of laughter.

Whatever sleep that had still been in him began to creep away. Killian's eyes widened, taking in the simple word that she'd shared carelessly.

"What?" He scrambled up onto his hands and knees before finding a spot on the bed next to her. "You're..." His eyes roaming over the way her fingers made wide circling patterns over her stomach. "You're-"

"Killian, it's nothing serious," Emma cut him off before giving him the chance to panic. Her hand came out to wrap over his knee. "It's been nothing but… but a random contraction here and there for past few hours. Absolutely nothing to worry about."

His wife's caressing hand and soothing voice did nothing to calm the hammering of his heart in his chest. Was he dreaming? He must have been dreaming, because contractions in the middle of the night- bloody hell, what time was it?- when his wife was nine months pregnant actually did mean something. Something to him, at least.

Emma let out another deep breath as she scooted carefully back down onto the bed.

"I've had the briefest contraction for a few hours," she finally shared.

Killian felt the lift of his brows as moved closer to her, leaning over her arched body that rose her belly even higher in the air.

"A few hours?"" His hand fitted underneath the space where her back was lifted from the bed, massaging over the spot for a moment before sliding back to the front. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"At midnight?" Emma countered, as if she were the sane one. "Over nothing?" She shook her head. "I promise you, Killian, that ten-second contractions over the last three hours, spaced an hour apart, is nothing to wake my husband up over."

He wondered if it was a facade. Emma, laying there flat against the bed, her hand sitting high on her belly, and her head turned towards him as her eyes settled on him from above her. He wondered if it meant more than the tidbits that she was offering, as if there was not only nothing to be fearful of, but nothing to be joyous over either.

"Lay down, Killian," Emma whispered lightly. "Go back to sleep."

He felt the muscles in his jaw twitch as his teeth clamped together.

"Because that is what I'm going to try to do," she continued, pulling the covers up and over her body, attempting to get as comfortable as possible.

She was laying there as if she wasn't…

"This is labor, is it not?" Killian wondered if it sounded as foolish as he thought it did, coming out of his mouth. "I mean… We're five days away from your due date, so this could possibly be-"

"Braxton-Hicks contractions?" Emma finished for him. She sighed once more, her body angling again, although seemingly fairly relaxed for the fact she'd been having contractions throughout the night.

Killian took in a deep breath and held it for a brief moment. "Do you think this is the real thing, Emma, or… or not?"

A second ticked by, followed by another, and then another. Emma's hand came up, finding his shoulder and smoothing down his arm.

"We'll know later," she answered. "Now…"

He moved before she had a chance to repeat the request again, slipping down on the mattress and finding his original spot beside her.

Calm. How in bloody hell was she so calm? When their baby could possibly be…

"Now we try to rest and get some sleep," she told him firmly, leaving not much room for discussion.

"Sleep?" It sounded incredulous even to his own ears. "Bloody hell."

She laughed at the curse, literally giggled before twisting her body from one position to another.

"If it's today, if I'm in labor, then I'll need as much rest as possible," Emma reminded him. "It's been over seventeen years since I've done this, but I still remember, in great detail, the amount of work giving birth can be."

Her words would have been encouraging and calming to her own ears, but they only made Killian notice the quickening and speeding of his pulse.

He blinked his eyes on her now-peaceful form after finding a good resting position. _Bloody hell._

"Killian?" Emma's voice was a simple whisper.

"Yes, love?" He slipped back to his own side of the bed so that he could lay next to her.

He expected another word of assuredness, another sign that everything was okay and that he was beginning to worry for nothing…

Emma took his hand in her own, her squeeze gentle.

"I hope we get to meet our son today," she whispered softly.

Killian felt his heart constrict in his chest, and tried not to squeeze her hand as tightly as the squeeze he felt there.

He didn't have the words for a response, feeling the constriction hit his throat as well. Instead, he brought her hand up to his lips, leaving a brush of his lips to run across it.

 _Bloody hell, indeed._

* * *

The bathroom had almost created a sauna in the fifteen minutes he'd been in there. Killian's fingers slipped down his face, wiping away the drops of water that still clung there while he was enveloped by the cool air.

He wanted to be surprised by the sight he'd walk in on in the bedroom, but he wasn't. He wasn't surprised at all, though.

Killian's steps were slow, taking in the made-up bed.

"Killian?"

He turned swiftly at Henry's voice, finding him in the doorway and walking in. It could have been surprising as well.

"Where's your mom?" Killian asked him, lifting a brow in Henry's direction..

Henry offered him a quick smile. "She's in the kitchen." He kept moving, making his way across the room. "Making some breakfast. She sent me to get her phone."

Killian lowered his chin in acknowledgment. "You're not going to school today, I take it."

Henry grabbed up the cell phone from Emma's nightstand and was quick to turn back around. His own eyes were wide in surprise as he looked straight at him.

"No way!" He huffed out a laugh as he moved once more. "Mom's having the baby today. I want to be there."

Killian's hand went back up to his face, his fingers brushing over his dampened bearded cheek.

"Did Emma tell you that?" he asked carefully. "Has she had another contraction since she's been downstairs?"

She'd tried to convince him that it had been nothing to worry about, nothing to get too excited over in those early hours. He'd wakened up at three in the morning with her, barely sleeping for the next few hours before they both chose to get up for good. Sleep? How could he sleep when he'd watched her go through those brief contractions every hour?

If she'd had another contraction…

Those hour gaps were nearly a full sixty minutes anymore, were they? At Emma's own admission, she'd been in the early stage of labor for seven hours now. Perhaps the contractions were beginning to get even closer together.

"Well, she asked me to bring her her phone so that she could call Grandma and Grandpa about driving down," Henry answered him, the smile still plastered over his face. "She wants to make sure that they get here sooner rather than later."

"That's what she told you?" Killian asked.

His in-laws were some four hours away…

"That's what she said," Henry assured him. He took a moment to give Killian a good once-over, from head to toe. "Are you okay, Killian?"

Was he okay? Sometimes, he wasn't sure.

"Apparently, I'm the only one who realizes what this all means," he said smiling, amused himself by that possibility.

Henry chuckled at that, his head down as he moved towards Killian and the door.

"I do realize," he assured him. Henry's hand closed around Killian's arms and gave a bit of a squeeze. "And I would guess that Mom does, too. Which is why she is asking for her phone,"

Henry's jovial tone didn't lessen the grip that Killian placed against the boy;s hand on his arm.

"Your brother just _may_ be arriving today," Killian reminded him, his voice as even as he could possibly make it.

"Your son…" Henry's smile spoke of the significance of that statement. Perhaps a bit too much.

"Henry, you know-"

"I do know, Killian," he assured him, cutting Killian off from speaking the all too true words. The words that would have expressed how Killian had been a father to a son for over four years already. The words that would have expressed how Killian would have been satisfied in life if Henry was the only son he would ever be blessed with.

Henry's hand gave another firm squeeze before he let it slip out from between Killian's shoulder and his own hand, seeming fine with the hint of emotion that was coursing through that bedroom.

"Are you heading downstairs, too?" Henry asked easily, side-stepping Killian and continuing his way towards the door.

"In… just a moment," he assured him.

Henry nodded. "I'll let Mom know." He smiled suddenly. "I'm sure she'll have breakfast almost ready by then." The smile turned into a sudden look of inquiry. "Is that normal? You know, her going about her day like she isn't in labor?"

It brought a small smile to Killian's own face. "At this stage of labor, apparently so. Now, how she does that will and forever be a conundrum to me." Bloody hell, the thought already had his palms slick with a layer of perspiration.

"Which means that the worse has yet to come," Henry concluded, giving a firm nod.

"That's… one way to look at it," Killian reluctantly agreed.

They shared a bewildered smile between them before Henry pursed his lips and nodded again.

"See you when you come down," Henry murmured, moving into the hall on his way.

Killian felt his own smile grow as he watched his step-son leave. Great kid. Came from a line of good people. He would be a good big brother to this baby as well.

And Killian… Killian had been a part of that rearing of Henry. So… this son- this child he shared with Emma in every way- would be a good kid as well. He was coming from good stock on his mother's side and…

The Jones' lineage had produced Liam. And Connor. And Brennan. It had produced Killian. It had produced his son. So...

He unconsciously sucked his inner cheek between his teeth and gnawed gently.

It was the single fat drop of water that dropped from his wet hair to his cheek that brought him out of his reverie. Running his fingers through the wet mess atop his head, Killian moved across the span of the room towards his dresser. Apparently, his presently-in-labor wife was making the family breakfast as per usual.

Grabbing a pair of socks from his dresser drawer and opting to leave his hair mildly damp, he made a quick go at finishing dressing. Decidedly, he'd spent just enough time without checking on his wife.

* * *

Killian hadn't been there when Ruby gave birth to Connor. Hell, she'd had two false alarms that had taken her to the hospital prior to that. It was a bloody surprise when he'd finally made his arrival.

When Ruby gave birth to Brennan, Emma had been on babysitting duty with young Connor, leaving Killian the chance to go to the hospital. At that point, she had been pretty much reaping the benefits of the epidural, the worse of the pain mostly over. So…

This was why Emma had said not to worry about those brief contractions that had made sleeping quite difficult through the night. Because _that_ wasn't the time to worry; that was early labor. The time to worry seemed to be _now,_ because _now_ she was in active labor.

"Emma… love?"

He should have also learned to keep his mouth shut, knowing that the nearly-minute long contractions that his wife was now having didn't allow for her to speak.

Killian took in a deep breath as he moved to stand behind her seat at the dining room table. His fingers slipped underneath the loose top-knot, massaging gently as her head dropped down over her chest.

Emma's moan seemed to be more out of annoyance than anything else. Throughout the hours that had finally brought the contractions a continuous five minutes apart, she'd actually been handling the pain well. But it would be idiotic on his part to not have somewhat of an idea of just how much pain she was possibly in.

His eyes slid over towards the video camera that Henry had set up on a tripod in his absence. _I want to make sure I capture as much as possible_ had been the sentiment that Henry had shared with the both of them.

Even if Henry would have been able to make it to school without the threat of Emma heading to the hospital while he was away, Killian was happy to have him home for the day. Counting in the earliest of contractions, Emma had literally been in labor for about twelve hours already. And yet...

It wasn't until after the contraction passed, after some of the pain had subsided, that Emma took in a small breath and shook her head.

"It's still too early," she muttered quietly. "I'm more comfortable here at home than I would be at the hospital. It's okay, Killian."

"Okay." He tried to take her words for what they were. Emma was the one who was pregnant, the one who had been pregnant before, the one who knew first-hand what labor and delivery were all about. "Okay."

Emma let out another small breath. "Although _this_ isn't comfortable anymore. Maybe I should…"

Killian stepped away from the back of the chair, his hand reaching out towards hers. He helped her stand from the chair, bracing as much of her weight as she let him.

"Did… did you want to walk a bit?" His eyebrows shot up as she lifted her head towards him. "Or… perhaps… did you want to lie down?" His brows instantly drew together, taking a moment to assess the blank look on her face. Perhaps blank was a better alternative to one of sheer discomfort or sheer pain. "In bed or… the couch?"

She was beginning to relax more in her state of being between contractions. And that's what it truly felt like: the short periods of time between the physical torture of contractions that were beginning to last longer intervals.

Killian didn't expect the hands that slipped over either of his cheeks. He didn't expect the sparkle and shine of Emma's eyes as she looked him over carefully.

"What?" he asked quietly, his own hands tightening on her waist and keeping her steady. "What is it, love?"

Her smile was small, and quite sweet. She took in a deep breath this time, tilting her head and letting it out.

"This labor is taking you to places I've never seen," she finally told him, a sense of peculiarity in her tone. "Where is my ever-patient and always-understanding husband, Killian Jones?"

He felt his body stiffen, felt the pull of his brows once more. He'd only been a spectator before when it came to labor and delivery. And not much of one, if he was honest with himself. He'd only been a father to a teenager. Never had he been the expectant father, watching the woman he loved prepare to bring their child into the world. So… if he was a bit unlike himself…

Emma's smile grew just as she slipped out of his arms. Her hands covered the sizeable bump of her belly as she moved away from him.

It was the angle of the light that hit her. It was the expression of tiredness but the natural glow that was present on her face. It was the way her hands cupped and protected their unborn son in her belly. It was… everything about her.

For the length of time and the hurt that had come with trying to get pregnant, the ease of Emma's pregnancy was something that neither of them took for granted. She had reveled in her pregnancy, never feeling the need to slow down with work until only a couple of weeks ago. She'd enjoyed the changes to her body, seeing the growth the baby they'd both dreamed of. It had been an amazing journey as the months passed, preparing their home and hearts for possibly _this_ day.

The culmination of all of that was now on them. And she looked more than ready to start this part of their life. So much so that it left all the worrying to be done for Killian to do.

"I'm… here, Emma," he assured her with a wobbly nod of his head.

The hand on her stomach became an arm as she nodded her head. "Good."

It wasn't a contraction, but it was easy to tell that there was some kind of physical ailment she was dealing with.

Killian moved closer towards her, his hand reaching out to grasp at her waist.

"Would you like to lie down for a while?" he asked her again.

Emma was quick to shake her head. "No. But I think some time in the bathtub would help. Killian, could you run me a bath? Hot," she made sure to clarify.

He loved her. With all of his heart, he loved this woman.

"As you wish," he assured her.

"In the main bathroom, though," she told him. "But with the scented soap from our bathroom?"

It put an easy smile on his face. "Of course."

Emma returned the smile, but pulled herself away from his grasp.

"I want to sit on the couch for this next contraction, so I'll be in the living room when you come back."

He watched her go, watched the way her head tilted from right to left, the way her shoulders lifted and rounded, watched the stride of his pregnant wife as she left him.

She'd asked where was the patient man, the understanding man. He got it. He understood. And he could be all of that because that was who he was. But… there was a sense of calmness that ran through him over the fact that he didn't have to be that. Not this time.

Killian turned his attention towards the video camera sitting on the tripod.

"She's amazing, your mom," he said into the camera. "Lucky us, huh?" His smile was rather huge as he lifted the tripod.

By the time he'd made it into the living room, Emma was in the familiar contraction mode, chin to chest, hands gripping at the couch, and only the smallest of whimpers escaping her mouth.

There was a part of him that wanted to go to her, to be that moral support. There was another part of him that knew that she'd sent him on a task that needed to be done.

"Just amazing," he shared with the camera once more. With a final look at his wife which caused him to visibly swallow, he moved away from the living room so that he could prepare her bath.

* * *

Killian slipped his hand around the vibrating phone in his pocket and pulled it out. Liam's simple two-word text had his chest constricting painfully.

"Liam's here," he whispered, slipping the phone back in its place and turning his attention to Emma.

"Go see him," she whispered back. Her green eyes spoke of the hours she'd been in labor, the hours that had brought them to this moment here, to the exact room where their son would soon be born. "I have Mom and Dad and Henry. Go see Liam." Emma's hand raised from the spot on her bed rail to clasp his cheek. "I promise not to give birth while you're gone."

It was meant as a tease, Killian realize perhaps a second or two after feeling the stutter of his heart. Just a tease. Although…

They were close, weren't they? The nurse had said they were close. She had sent for the doctor what had seemed like an hour ago. She had done so because Emma was ready to push, had been given the greenlight to give it a go. All to no avail just yet. And she wasn't supposed to push to only tire herself out. But it was going to be soon. Their son would be there soon.

"Are you-"

"I'm sure," Emma told him, cutting off his protest.

Killian felt himself swallow as he took a look around the room. Henry had placed himself on the couch near the window, fiddling with his phone. David stood somewhat close, hand palming his chin and offering a raised brow. Mary Margaret stood on the other side of Emma's bed, her smile as reassuring and teasing as her daughter's.

"I'll be right back, and won't go any farther than right outside this door," he murmured before lowering his lips to her forehead for a kiss.

"I know," she said quietly. "And don't worry about me. I'm fine."

There was a part of him that didn't want to leave her. There was another part of him that felt completely overwhelmed by the extremely long day.

"Okay." Killian dropped another kiss on her forehead before he stepped away. "I'll be right back."

Emma nodded, then turned her attention to her mother, offering a smile her way.

She was in good hands. She was…

Killian blinked his eyes on the sight before him as he moved towards the door. Perhaps… perhaps this would be the last time he stepped out of that room as a daddy-to-be instead of a daddy…

The door handle was cold at the touch as he grasped it and swung it open. The air in the halls of the hospital was chillier than that of the room. Hearing the door close behind him, Killian immediately fell over double, his hands clutching at his shins and his head less than a foot from the floor. His eyes widened on the stark whiteness of that floor as he felt the heave of breaths enter his body.

"What the blazes are you doing, little brother?"

Killian caught sight of Liam's tennis shoes beside him. He saw the bend of his brother's knees as he began to lower himself down towards him.

"Breathing," Killian answered. His eyes closed as he took in another generous breath through his nose. "Bloody hell."

There was a woosh of air from behind him, sending a chill up his spine. He took in another breath, opening his eyes to find another pair of feet beside him.

"Lift him up," David said, directed towards Liam, apparently.

Hands on either of his arms did just that, bringing Killian back to an upright position.

"How's Emma?" Liam asked with an all-knowing smile.

It should have put a smile on Killian's face. It should have left him as jovial as he knew both his brother and father-in-law were. Of course, they'd been through this before, hadn't they? Liam, with Ruby and the birth of their boys. David, with Mary Margaret and the birth of Emma, as well as Emma and the birth of Henry.

It didn't put a smile on his face. Instead, he fought back the burn of tears as he threw his arms around his brother's neck in a hug.

"Family." It was the one word that made it out of his befuddled mouth.

As Liam's arms hugged around him, Killian knew that he got it. He understood.

It had only been the two of them for so long. They'd only had each other, but when _two_ meant _Liam and Killian,_ then _two_ had been a lot. But now…

Damn it…

He and Emma had tried for so long. It had been a battle that had pulled them apart in ways he never wanted to be apart from her. It had caused them both to hide within themselves instead of together. And then…

The nine months had practically flew by. Every phase and every stage had been a new discovery for Killian. Although it hadn't been new to Emma... it was amazing to witness her witness him. It was amazing to experience _everything_ with her.

"Emma is doing good," David finally shared from behind Killian. "It'll be soon now."

Killian was supposed to pull back. He was supposed to separate himself from his brother. He was supposed to have a hold on his bloody emotions! So…

Feeling the thickness of his throat, he swallowed and pushed himself off of Liam.

"A bit nervous, is that it, little brother?" he murmured, looking right into Killian's eyes.

David clasped his hand down on Killian's shoulder.

"He's doing fine, as well," he said assuringly. This time, his eyes locked on Killian. "You're doing a fine job."

"Hey, you only look about… half the wreck I was when Connor was born." The smile Liam gave him was huge and full of amusement. "Of course, you missed that day." An eyebrow shot up. "But, considering where we are at this very moment, I guess it's another reason to not hold a grudge."

Killian remembered a time when he could find amusement in such things. Today didn't seem to be that day…

The moment he met her…

Emma Swan had taken his breath away. The pieces of his life had finally began to come together when she let him in. Those things that he knew should have been important to him… had become vital to him.

And now...

"She's…" Killian took in another deep breath and held it as his eyes roamed over his brother.

The amusement left Liam's face, replaced with a pensive purse of his lips and somber blue eyes.

"I know, Killian." This time, it was he who pulled Killian back in for an embrace holding on with a tight grip.

God, if anyone else knew… If anyone knew what kind of storm was brewing inside of Killian in those moments, it was Liam. And, thank God, Killian had his brother.

* * *

" _Just give me a little push down, nice and easy."_

 _Emma's fingers tightened around his hand as she did exactly what the doctor told her to do. She gave another one of those pushes that brought their baby just that much closer to them._

 _He had expected unbelievable cries of pain, small deep exhalations of breath while shivering and explaining how she couldn't do this. He had expected to be a support that she needed, a clear voice championing her own and showing her how much he believed in her._

 _He hadn't expected the truth of the matter. He hadn't expected the quietness of the hospital room, the calm voice of the doctor who had delivered enough babies to be unfazed by the miracle that was happening._

" _A little bit more," the doctor directed. "A little bit more."_

" _Good job." The nurse's praise held much more sentiment towards the grand moment as she held on to Emma by the foot and ankle._

Good job, Emma. _Had he spoken the words? Killian wasn't sure, feeling as if he was having an outer body experience._

" _Now take a breath."_

 _Perhaps Killian should have been doing the same…_

" _And do that again. Nice and easy."_

 _He should have been beyond happy that this was the experience she was having: calm, minimum pain, quietness. Perhaps it was the fact that his heart was about to pound out of his chest that made it difficult to hold on to that feeling._

 _By God, Emma was beautiful! Chin to chest, alternately breathing and pushing, completely concentrated on giving birth to their_ son…

" _I love you, Emma." Yes, he had spoken those words. No doubt. "I love you."_

" _Just like that," the doctor told her, his hands… "Perfect. A little bit more. A little bit more." There was a hint of excitement now in his voice, his pitch becoming higher._

 _Beside Emma, Killian's eyes widen on the blue cotton blanket that covered her belly before his gaze peeked over her leg to see…_

" _Okay, now breathe…"_

 _He couldn't see. There was a part of him that couldn't leave her side, not even to witness what he knew must be right there._

 _Could they see the baby's head? Was their son…_

" _Just one more time in that same spot… Deep breath and… go for it."_

 _Killian saw the rise of Emma's chest, saw her take in that breath, and then push._

" _A little bit more. More, more, more… Okay, breathe."_

 _He couldn't see, but he knew…_

" _Okay, last one. Let's go ahead and push."_

 _Killian closed his eyes for just a second and listened to the beeping sounds of the machines and encouraging directions of the doctor and the sounds of Emma's breathing. He took in another of his own breaths and opened his eyes at the words…_

" _Let's have a baby." Another second, then two, ticked away. "Breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe. And… the baby's head is out."_

" _Bloody hell." He'd said those words as well, straining to see the dark-covered…_

" _There he is… Hello, hello."_

 _Bloody…_

 _There wasn't another push. Instead, Killian heard a snip of something, hands working furiously and carefully, and…_

" _Reach down, reach down."_

 _The hold Emma had on his hand released, instead reaching down as instructed._

" _Oh my God!" It was a happy and tearful cry from Emma, just one set of hands pushing a baby onto her stomach and the baby blue blanket that lay there._

 _And then he was there, a limp little thing who was trying to gurgle out his first cries as he was patted down with an efficient hand._

" _Oh my God." It was Killian's own voice again, sounding muffled to his own ears._

 _Why couldn't he process anything? Why couldn't he make sense of the steps being performed in front of him?_

" _Dad, did you want to cut the cord?"_

 _The question was directed at him:_ Dad, did you want to cut the cord?

" _Ah… yeah. Yes." Killian felt the smile on his face and saw the shakiness of his hand as he moved closer to scissors._

 _That outer body experience hit him again. He felt himself nod, felt the scissors between his fingers, heard the snip snip and felt the squishiness of the cord being dissected. He watched as the nurse continued to clean him, watched as the baby was lifted into her arms only to be placed against Emma's skin, underneath the gown and now skin to skin._

 _Emma…_

 _Her sobs were of pure joy, her murmurs of love for her son and his beauty and perfection filling the room._

 _Killian didn't pass out. It could have been a possibility, but…_

" _Do you have a name for him already?"_

 _The nurse's question brought him back to Earth._

 _Emma's gaze, bright and holding only a hint of the tiredness she must have been feeling, found him._

 _Killian squatted down beside her, taking in the headful of black hair that would be like his own. He took in the wrinkled fingers that scraped at his mouth whilen the gargled cries continued. Killian would have loved to see the eyes, but he was treated to closed lids and barely there eyelashes._

 _He smiled, almost laughing at the beauty of his son._ His son.

" _Declan." His son's name came quietly from his lips. He looked up at Emma, an appreciation for his wife that was unmatched to anything in this world. "Our son's name is Declan Finn Jones."_

* * *

 _Declan Finn Jones._

 _Born on Thursday, April 19th._

 _Time: 6:08pm._

 _Weight: 7 lbs 4 oz._

 _Height: 20 ¾ in_

It was one of his favorite posts to have ever made on any social media site….

Declan Finn Jones. Not more than six hours old, and the boy was already a Jones through and through. He had Killian's black hair (just as Killian had always believed he would), he had his blue eyes

There were bits and pieces of Emma and Henry, as well. He had Emma's chin, dimple and all. Perhaps even her nose, Killian couldn't quite tell just yet.

All together, it made for one beautiful baby boy, that was for sure.

Sitting in the dark, besides the glow of the muted television, he had an itch to draw Declan, to capture every bit of him in that moment. But it was well after midnight, with both mom and baby sleeping good. _He_ should have been sleeping. He knew it with every fiber in him. It wasn't that he wasn't exhausted. He had no right to be as tired as he was. He also couldn't sleep. His mind was on autopilot, leaving him awake and alert, and with an itch to draw.

It wouldn't be long before a nurse would be dropping in on them, checking Emma once more for the night, getting her up to feed Declan.

The smile caught him off his guard, as much as the feeling of love blossoming in his heart.

He was here. Declan Finn Jones was here, only feet from him while he slept in his hospital bassinet. And all his father wanted to do was marvel over the miracle.

Pursing his lips, Killian forced himself down on his makeshift bed. The energy that he'd had seemed to seep out of him all of a sudden, reminding him of the day they'd all just had. He closed his eyes, let out a small sigh, and didn't have to force himself to sleep as much as he thought he would have.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Emma's voice was a whisper as she looked up from Declan, who was curled up in her arms.

Killian adjusted Henry's video camera on Emma's overbed table sitting at the foot of her bed, capturing all of her and the baby.

"Henry wants to make sure that he has a lot of moments to choose from when he makes his video for you," he informed her. Happy enough with the zoom, Killian stepped away from the camera and moved over to the bed.

"Well, right now we are definitely enjoying the _quiet_ moments," Emma whispered.

Killian's heart squeezed tightly at the sight of baby resting comfortably against Emma's chest, eyes closed and without a worry in the world. Her fingers lightly stroked at his tiny back. The small content sigh that left Declan's mouth might not have been directly connected to the feeling of his mother's hand, but there was a possibility.

"I love the quiet moments," Killian whispered back.

Emma looked up at him, her smile bright. "Get in the bed with us."

Her request made his eyes crinkle in the corner as he smiled back at her. He looked about the bed that was made for one.

"It'll be a tight squeeze, love," he told her with a chuckle.

"Mm, Declan and I won't mind," she assured him quietly.

His eyes narrowed on her. "Hm, I wonder if your nurse would, though."

It made her chuckle, her green eyes sparkling at him. She bit her lip before sharing, "I won't tell if you won't tell."

The offer was a bit too enticing to not give in to. Killian glanced back at Emma's door, smiled again, and then slowly slipped carefully onto the bed with his family.

"If she catches me, I'm ratting you out and saying it was all your idea," he warned her.

She had already slid over, offering him enough space to lay on his side.

"See there?" Emma whispered. "We fit."

"Are you comfortable, love?" he asked. She looked content, but he didn't want to put her out.

"I'm more than comfortable," she told him. Her eyes turned back to Declan, who gave another sigh of his own contentment.

It made Killian huff out a laugh, the sounds of their baby. His hand struck out to caress Declan's capped head, imagining the black hair that was all but hidden under there.

"Are you happy, Emma?" he asked quietly, catching in his throat.

"I'm so happy, Killian," she said, nodding her head vigorously, "Are you?" She laughed at her own question. "Are you happy?"

He met those dazzling green eyes. "A bit absurd to even ask, is that it?" His gaze switch from her, to Declan, and then back again. "Well, let's see."

Emma's lips twitched into a smile, curiosity written on her face.

"You opened your heart to me at a time it wasn't easy to do," he checked off. "You fell in love with me, offering me the opportunity to know what love truly was, firsthand. You took the plunge and moved in with me, granting me this opportunity to have a family, with you and Henry. You said yes when I asked you to marry me, allowing me to make our family official. Six months into our marriage, you were willing to expand this family of ours. And when it didn't happen right away, you turned to me and let us deal with that hurt together. And then you told me that you were pregnant, that we were going to have the baby that we wanted. The moment you told me that has lead to this day, where under twenty-four hours ago, you gave birth to our son. So…"

Emma inhaled a small breath, her eyelashes fluttering.

"Killian…" There was a level of thickness to her voice, the emotions that were evoked by his words clear to see. But he was sure that his own heart could rival that of hers, almost being brought back to the emotional mess he'd been all of yesterday.

"So…" he started again, trying to tamper the quiver of his voice. He nodded his head, his fingers slipping over hers and hers slips over Declan's back. "Aye, love. I'm very happy."

Emma's smile was back. Her eyelashes fluttered again as she bobbed her head in a nod.

"Good." Her eyes widened on him just as she moved closer. Her lips sought out and found his, leaving a soft kiss there. "Good." Another kiss. Then another. "Good."

* * *

 **A/N:** **It's a boy! And his name is Declan! How do you feel about that? The name came from a Tumblr poll where I asked for names, so maybe you saw that. I fell in love with the name Declan:) But... were you expecting a boy or hoping for a girl?**

 **Killian's a daddy! Finally! He's been a father to Henry for over 4 1/2 years, but now he's a DADDY! And we got to see him in a role reversal, where he isn't the calm and collected man of the hour, but more of the worried everything's-out-of-my-control-and-there's-nothing-I-can-do-about-it kind of man.**

 **So... any clue what's to come in the second and final epilogue? Hopefully, you CAN'T guess, and it's a surprise to everyone.**

 **Thanks so much for reading! I'm glad you were all here with me for this story. And... see you soon for the last installment of One More Is Never Enough!**


	19. Epilogue Part 2

The lips against hers pressed there warmly. The pressure left, only to return once more. Emma was close to moaning, but settled for a scrunch of her entire face. She was supposed to open her eyes, was that it?

"Good morning, beautiful." Killian's voice was a soft murmur against her lips. This time, he place a small kiss on the dimple of her chin.

Emma forced herself to do what she didn't want to do: she opened her eyes.

Killian's smile was teasing as he pulled away from her and the bed

 _Good_ morning? That was yet to be confirmed.

"Morning," she murmured back.

Her greeting was met by Killian's chuckle as he took another step back.

"Am I missing something here?" He raised a single sharp eyebrow as he looked her over. "Did you have a long night that I might've slept through? Did Declan have you up late?"

Emma wanted to dig her head deeper into her pillow at that thought.

"No, but…" She twisted from her side to roll over onto her back, hoping that it would promote actually getting up. "I feel like he did. I feel like I haven't gotten… two hours worth of sleep." Ignoring her husband's chuckle, she turned her head to look at him. "What time is it?"

His eyes widen on her. "It's about a quarter after seven."

That knowledge made her wince. "You're about to get in the shower, huh?"

Concern covered his face as he looked at her, his eyes narrowing and his lips pursed. Killian moved back towards the bed, taking a seat on the edge beside her.

"Are you just tired?" he asked, his fingers sifting through the hair right above her ear. "Or is something else wrong?"

His fingers felt soothing against her scalp, causing a sigh to escape her mouth.

"Just a little tired," Emma assured him, deciding to ignore the gentle flutters of a stomachache. "Maybe I just need a few extra minutes to lay here."

Seven o'clock…

They had a routine. A routine that they were already behind schedule on because she'd overslept. With Declan still asleep as well, she guessed it wasn't the most horrible thing.

Emma was supposed to be out of the house by eight o'clock. Even though Killian had a later leave date at ten o'clock, he got bathroom privileges first, allowing him to get showered. Not necessarily fully dressed, but at least showered and groomed. While he took care of himself, Emma took care of getting Declan's day started. Bottles prepared for the day, diaper-changing, and most importantly… early morning amusement if he woke up during that time.

By the time Killian was done in the bathroom, it was Emma's turn to prepare herself for work. From that point, Declan was all Killian's. And by that point, their son was fully awake and ready to start his own day.

Emma had gone back to work after the full twelve weeks. Although Killian had always worked partially from home, one of their earliest decisions that they'd made as parents was what to do about Declan's daytime care once they got into the swing of incorporating parenting an infant into their lives.

Daycare had been an option, but one that neither of them were sold on. A nanny seemed like the best option. At least until Declan was a bit older. So, for the past six weeks, Caitlyn had been a godsend, an absolute godsend. Having her in the house from ten o'clock until three o'clock from Monday through Friday overlapped with Killian's schedule, leaving him time to also work from home as he'd always done.

Four and a half months… After four and a half months, they had settled into this beautiful life. It was everything… that she'd known they were supposed to have, everything she knew they were supposed to be…

It didn't stop the sudden need for just a little extra rest before her day got started…

"Declan's still asleep, but… do you want me to bring him in here?" Killian asked her quietly, his fingers moving through her hair again. "That way, if he wakes up before I get out of the bathroom, you won't have to go far to get him."

Watching him lift a single brow, Emma did the same, considering the option he was offering her.

"And if you're not feeling up to it, I can take care of all the other stuff," Killian assured her. "You look…" He paused, seemingly to ponder his next words carefully. Smiling sheepishly, he admitted, "Quite rather... put out, love."

"Well, thanks for letting me know, Killian," she muttered up at him, rolling her eyes in the process.

It raised another chuckle out of him. Removing his fingers from her hair, he stood up from the bed.

"Henry knows about the early morning call that he's getting from the both of us before you leave, right?" he asked her.

Emma took in a small breath at the thought. "He knows, so he should be up well before his first class starts." Thinking of Henry all the way in Chicago in his dorm room and getting ready for his first day of college made the dim ache in her belly into something more prominent, something that was harder to look pass. "We can make the call once I get dressed, to give him more time himself."

"I'm worried you'll be cutting it close on time, love," he murmured quietly. Grabbing Declan's bassinet from the other side of the room to the other, he pushed it next to Emma's side of the bed. "Not so much with Henry, but with your day in general. We're already getting a late start, with you looking nowhere near ready to get out of bed."

If he even knew the half of how much she just wanted to close her eyes for just another hour…

"I'm fine."

Gripping the sides of the bassinet, Killian leaned over it, taking a long look at her.

"I hope so," he whispered. His sudden smile was small as he stood up. "I'm going to go get your son."

This time, the flutter was something nice, brought on by the thought of that sweet baby Jones' face being close to her.

"Thank you, Killian," Emma whispered back. Watching him walk away with another quick smile, she closed her eyes. There was a slight burn that she hadn't noticed until she was able to really sink into that restful mode.

Yes, just another hour would be…

Her yawn was wide enough to crack her jaw, and relaxing enough to make her turn back on her side.

Another hour would be all she needed. So it was really easy to ignore the fact that she was supposed to be out of the house in less than that time...

* * *

The low-pitched and slow cry beside her brought Emma's eyes to open immediately. Sitting up immediately, she cringed at the instant wave of nausea that hit her, her stomach cramping unbelievably.

Taking in a deep breath, her eyes fluttered closed for just a second as she gave in to the need to focus in on the pain. Only for a few seconds... Ignoring her own physical ailments, she instantly turned and reached for Declan from inside his bassinet.

Apparently, they were each other's best prescribed medication… Declan's long cries settled down as Emma placed him on her shoulder, cuddling him close and rubbing his small back. Breathing in his sweet baby scent helped her to move pass the internal uncomfortableness.

"Good morning, baby," Emma cooed into his hair, her heart squeezing in her chest as he calmed instantly down. "Mommy's tired, and I'm sorry."

That personal issue didn't seem to bother Declan. He pressed his tiny hands against her, his cries turning into coos and gurgles all the while, separating himself from her so that he could look at her.

Four and a half months…

He was the reason she had tried so hard. He was the reason she had known everything they'd been through was worth it.

All four limbs seemed to jerk at once, a hiccupping cry escaping his mouth as his head changed directions. Okay, he wasn't so happy in his current position…

Smiling, Emma turned him around in her arms, hugging his back against her chest before sitting him down in her lap. Then she turned her attention towards the bathroom door. The shower was off, making her wonder just how long she had slept.

Sleep was a thing of the past, it seemed like for Declan. His coos were long and loud, his stiff arms reaching out and smacking against her own around his waist.

Emma dropped her lips down onto his head, leaving a kiss in the soft black hair. Unable to ignore the unsettled feeling of her body this time, she brought her hand down to feel his diaper. She gave a little sigh at the dryness, thankful for Killian for taking care of that before taking care of himself.

She had to go to work. There wasn't a single part of her that wanted to make that act come to fruition. The minutes were ticking away, she knew. There was a chance that she would even be late, that fact being punctuated by not yet having moved much at all that morning.

Emma heard the bathroom door twist, bringing her attention there. The hot moisture filtered into the bedroom first, followed immediately by Killian. It was only one more clue to how late it was.

Declan was the first one to react, the former coo transforming into a loud gleeful cry as his arms stretched to slap against the bed.

"Still quite tired, I see," Killian commented, his eyes lingering on her. "You haven't been up yet?"

Would it be better to admit that she hadn't been up yet because she'd been asleep up into the moments of hearing Declan's cries, or would it have been better to just leave it at her not making it out of bed just yet? Decisions, decisions...

"I'm about to right now," Emma told him lightly. She didn't make it past hoisting Declan a little closer against her.

"Emma?"

There was a hint of resignation in Killian's voice, causing Emma's gaze to meet his once more.

"What?"

The way he was looking at her… Arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the door jam, he finally lifted his chin as his mouth opened just slightly.

"Take the day off," he told her slowly. His eyebrows came together sharply, and there would have been a frown on his lips had he not began speaking again. "You're clearly not feeling well. It's only getting later and later anyway."

Declan chose to chime in at that moment, his loud babble being followed by leaning forward and reaching out with both hands for something in front of them.

"I think our son agrees with me," Killian murmured, pushing himself off the door and finally moving towards them.

The idea was tempting, so very tempting. Killian was right. It was only getting later. If she attempted to get up at that very moment, she would have no trouble with making it to work on time. It was just… she lacked such an energy to do so.

Reaching her side of the bed, Killian picked up her cell phone off her nightstand. Trading it for Declan, picking up the baby in his arms and placing the phone in her hand, he gave her a quick shrug.

"Call in, Emma." He shook his head and turned his smile on a still-babbling Declan. "I'll work from home today. I'll call Caitlynn and tell her we don't need her, and it'll just be us for the entire day." He became distracted by the hand Declan threw up to his cheek, meeting him eye to eye and speaking the adorable gurgled baby-talk that his daddy was supposed to understand.

It made Emma laugh, a little huff at the sight in front of her. Her eyes still felt tired, she noticed, the crinkling in the corners bringing with it a slight burn. Gripping the phone in her hand, she glanced down at it.

She wasn't a proponent of calling off. Especially last minute. But… maybe… today…

There weren't any meetings today. There _was_ a new display that was going up. But…

Emma pressed the button on her phone, sliding the bar over and flipping over the screen until she reached her contacts.

"I'll call Caitlynn, too," she murmured, glancing back at Killian. "My phone's already out."

"And then we'll call Henry together," he reminded her with a firm nod, removing Declan's fingers out of his mouth.

Listening to the phone ring in her ear, Emma gave a quick nod herself.

"When you're done there, Emma, just… get some rest." There was concern in his features, worry, as he spoke. "I'll take care of whatever you need."

She was quick to nod again, her eyes blinking at the predicament she found herself in.

Holding Declan close to his chest with his hand to the back of his head, Killian swooped over Emma to place a kiss on her cheek.

"I'm going to go down to get his bottle, then I'll be right up so we can make that call to Henry," he whispered, moving away from her.

Finally, she got someone to answer the phone, attempting to connect her to the right person. She watched with only the tiniest of smiles as Killian and Declan disappeared from the room, leaving her alone.

Sometimes… Sometimes she realized how truly lucky she was in life…

* * *

How she had slept to nearly noon? Surprisingly enough, there was still a sense of fatigue wearing down her body. Luckily enough, whatever internal aches that had been plaguing her earlier were now over.

Emma let her hand slip over the banister on her way down the stairs. She could hear the light melody of the swing, as well as the motorized _swish_ as it swung back and forth.

Those weren't the only sounds she'd heard coming from the living room as she made her way off that last stair. She could hear the tapping of Killian's laptop's keys. Another methodic sound that started and went in long burst, followed by the rapid press of a single key, the backspace key, she was sure. And then the sudden burst was back, the words flowing out of Killian and onto the laptop's screen.

Disturbing them was something she questioned. Her boys all seemed to be in their zones. That observation made her think of Henry, who had seemed more than okay when she'd spoken to him over the phone. It was noon, and he would still be in his first ever college class. Where had the time gone…

Turning the corner, she could see Declan laying comfortable in the seat of his swing, his head angled just right for the nap he was taking.

"You're up."

Emma looked over at the couch to see Killian blindly setting the laptop aside on the coffee table, his eyes and smile on her.

"I'm up," she agreed, taking in a small breath and holding it for only a second. She noticed the emptiness of her stomach, triggering her gaze to slide over towards the direction of the kitchen. There was definitely a part of her that could go for at least a banana. There was also a part of her that wasn't so ready to put anything on her stomach just yet.

"Come here, love." Killian held his hand out for her.

He brought another smile to her face. There was a sense of purpose in every step she took towards him.

"How are you feeling?" Taking her hand, Killian placed a soft kiss in her palm as she lowered herself down on the couch beside him. "Any better?"

Emma shook her head. "I feel fine."

Killian blinked his eyes on her, his lips pursing for a moment. Nodding quickly, his hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her closer. His kiss on her forehead was soft before pulling back away from her.

"You're not warm,:" he murmured, looking her over with interested eyes.

Emma shook her head again. "No. Like I said: I'm fine. I don't think it's anything serious or anything to worry about."

"What is it then?" Killian picked up her hand and brought it to her lips. "A stomach virus, perhaps?" He looked up at her, meeting her eyes.

"Maybe it's just a twenty-four hour bug on something," Emma suggested with a shrug of her shoulder. She hated being sick. It had felt like forever since she'd been, but it didn't make the fact that she was sick _now_ any better...

"You've been a bit ragged for a couple of days," he pointed out, trying to shoot down her theory.

"Well, maybe it's a seventy-two hour bug," she amended lightly, offering up a small shrug. "Let's be hopeful. I don't need to be sick with Declan being so little."

Killian's brows knitted together just as he placed another kiss on her hand. "Fatigue." His own came around to rest over her stomach. "Cramping." It smoothed across her stomach, a nice contrast to the pain that had been there. "Bit of nausea, _without_ throwing up, thankfully."

"And a beautiful four-month-old baby and a busy workload," Emma added for him.

"Let's not forget: a rather handsome and dashing husband, as well." Killian offered her a smile that reached his eyes. It went away soon, his eyes widening as he looked her over.

"What?" It sounded skeptical because she was.

Killian's mouth fell open, but he was silent. The hand over her stomach began to circle again, pressing more firmly against her.

"What if... " His thoughts were his own as he seemed to be trying to process them. "Do you think…" He visibly swallowed before licking his lips, the frown returning. "Is it possible that…"

Why did it feel as if he was going to ask her if she was pregnant? If that word left his mouth, she was going to burst out laughing.

"Could you be pregnant?"

He'd really asked her, awe and wonder in his voice. And Emma huffed out the laugh she knew was coming.

"After everything we went through to get pregnant with Declan, you really think that you got me pregnant again within a couple of months of my six-week checkup?" It sounded incredulous, didn't it? How could it not?

Killian's smile was small. There was curiosity mixed with shock and hope in his eyes.

" _Could_ you be?" he asked in a whisper.

Before she could even put a thought in her head, he sprang forward, his lips connecting with hers. His mouth opened, pressing a quick kiss on hers, and then another and another.

"Emma." It was a breathy exhalation as his hand came up to cup her cheek and kissing her again. He was letting his excitement take over, believing something that was only substantiated by a few physical ailments that could have been anything. _Anything!_

 _Could_ she be?

It was the depth of love expressed in Killian's kiss that made the possibility even the tiniest bit true, his fingers inching up her cheek, over her ear, disappearing into her hair.

The niggling ache in her stomach seemed to fade. She tilted her head into him, enjoying the slip of tongue dipping in and out of her mouth, and covered his hand with her own.

"This is crazy." Pulling back from him, her eyes opened wide on him. "Do you know how crazy we sound by even entertaining the thought?"

There was a self-satisfied smirk on Killian's face as he slipped away from her, pressing his back into the couch and lifting first one foot onto the coffee table and then the other.

"Okay, maybe you're _not_ pregnant," he murmured, his stance completely refuting the words that came out of his mouth. "Perhaps it's some seventy-two hour bug or something." The smirk on his face became bigger as his crossed his arms behind his head and laid contently against the couch.

She _couldn't_ be…

There was another huff of laughter even as her eyes narrowed on her pleased as punch husband.

 _Could_ she be?

Had she had her period? She had, hadn't she? Or… had she merely spotted one day… or possibly two? Keeping track of her period hadn't been on the top of her to-do list. If she'd had a light period, or a barely there one, it was more like kudos to her at a moment where life was busy enough as it was.

Emma felt her body sink into the couch beside Killian, her eyes darting as her thoughts ran wild.

Killian brought his arm away from behind his head and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him.

"Do… we still have any pregnancy tests in the bathroom cabinet?" he asked conversationally, as if…

Emma turned her face up to his, seeing the calm demeanor there.

"I don't think so," she answered slowly.

Killian pursed his lips and carefully nodded. Then he turned to look straight ahead.

There was a beat or two of silence that filled the room…

"Did you want me to go to the drugstore and pick one up?" he asked in that same conversational tone. He looked back at her, a single brow raising in interest.

God, she could be pregnant…

Emma let herself stare at him for the longest of moments, letting everything sink in.

"Go to the drugstore and pick up a pregnancy test," she whispered quietly. The words that had just left out of her own mouth left her numb.

Killian's grin came back full-force.

"Oh, my God, I might be pregnant." Emma had barely gotten the words out before Killian was kissing her again, his excitement unable to be contained.

There may have been a stray thought or two during her pregnancy with Declan that said that… he was it. They'd struggled to get pregnant, so… it was a possibility that she was done having children, that Henry and Declan were it. So…

"How are you feeling? Are you okay?" Killian pulled back so that he could look at her, to assess for himself what he could tell by her face.

"Do you mean how am I feeling physically or how do I feel about the possibility of being pregnant again?" Emma pressed her back into the couch, her eyes blinking on him.

"Any of it." Killian smiled again. "All of it."

"Well…" She took in a breath and held it for a second. "We're just hypothesizing right now. I don't know how to feel."

"I'm leaving now." He was quick to press a kiss to her lips, then stand up from his seat. "I'll be right back."

Emma caught herself holding her breath and her eyes widening. "Okay."

She watched as Killian moved across the room, first patting his pockets and then hunting down his keys from the dining room.

"Right back, love." The promise was made as he glanced back towards her. He disappeared from view once more.

Emma heard the side door open and close as he left. Left to go get a pregnancy test...

The room was silent save the light melody and _swish_ from the swing.

She felt as if she was in a complete daze. Shaking her head, eyes fluttering, and taking in deep and steadying breaths, Emma stretched out on the couch, her head laying on the armrest. Everything began to replay in her mind, all the thoughts, all the symptoms…

She pressed her hand flat against her stomach and…

For some reason, for some instinctive reason, she already knew the truth, already knew the answer that the pregnancy test would give.

Emma bit down on her lip, a feeling of lightness overtaking her. She flexed her fingers wide across her stomach, tracing a circle across the span of it.

A tremulous smile lifted her lips, and she let the single tear in her eye slip down her cheek.

* * *

The timer on Killian's phone rang to life from its place at the sink.

It felt as if the three minutes would never pass. And once they had, the three minutes seemed to have passed all too quickly.

Straddling the side of the tub, hands clasped together, there seemed to be a need to take each other in. The seconds were still ticking away, the alarm was still ringing, and Emma and Killian sat there, watching each other with an intensity.

"If it's yes?" Killian's hand tightened its hold on Emma's as he leaned forward into her.

"If it's yes, then… that's amazing," she told him, feeling in awe at the admission.

"Unexpected," he added.

"Wanted," Emma whispered

Killian's hold tightened and he gave a simple nod of his head. "So very wanted."

Emma took in a small breath and held it. So very wanted.

She imagined the man he used to be. She remembered the bachelor he'd been, the random women he'd admitted to being with, the lone wolf status he'd had for so many years. She also remembered how easy it had been for him to express his desires for his own family, to have a wife, to have children. It was why it had always been difficult to understand how he'd been single for so long. It was curious to see how he'd not settled down… before her. He'd taken to family life and fatherhood so effortlessly. So… when he'd said so very wanted , the truth behind that statement shone through,more than he'd probably even want.

"And if it's no?" he asked lightly. The corner of his lips raised in a smile.

"If it's no, then… we… admit to being overly paranoid and… borderline hypochondriacs," she answered.

Killian's chuckle was a low rumble that brought with it a twinkle in his eyes. His hand smoothed over hers and he shook his head.

"Hypochondriac for the win then," he teased. "Does that mean…" His head tilted this time, a seriousness to his gaze on her. "No hard feelings then? If you're not… If we're not?"

Who was Killian kidding? Not her. He already had his hopes up, even more so than she did. He felt it, in a similar fashion to her, that the results could only read one way. And it sat there, already known to the test itself, yet they hadn't dared look.

The beeping of Killian's alarm had ran its entire course, now silent once more. Yet, they still hadn't moved to check, instead they continued to discuss the possibilities of something that was now out of their control.

"No hard feelings," Emma assured him, giving her head a good shake.

The silent moment they shared, taking the other one in for signs of something hidden, stretched out for a little longer.

Emma was the first to move, escaping the hold he had on her hands as she stood up. Stepping out of the tub, her gaze fell on the pregnancy test sitting in front of her.

Killian was right behind her, his hand finding her waist and holding on from behind.

"Ready?" Emma asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

"If you are." Killian nodded, bumping into her back as he looked over her shoulder. "Can you read it? What does it say?"

It put another smile on her face as she turned around. She was suddenly reminded of other pregnancy tests, of the excitement that had been so prevalent in her husband. It had been hard to hide then. It made her wonder, even after their talk, what would his initial reaction be if it was a negative result. Would he feel the need to hide his disappointment? Would he feel the need to console and cajole her? The thing this time though… she didn't think he'd have a cause for any of that.

Stepping up on her tiptoes, Emma balanced herself with Killian's help, peering over the bathroom counter and the pregnancy test. Her eyes darted across the stick, pinpointed on the small window, took in the entire length, and then settled back on…

"It's…" She leaned in farther, trusting Killian to hold her up, and picked up the test with both hands. "It's positive."

The hands around her waist gripped her tighter, rocking her body from side to side.

"Hell yes." It was bit out between his teeth, somewhere between a growl and grunt. Killian's hand slid down her waist, pulling off to land a hard and well-placed smack on the bottom. "Hell yes !"

Before Emma could react, he was twisting her around in his arms.

His face was set in gritty determination, his lips thin and his brows pulled over his eyes as they hunted over her face wildly. His chest rose and fell with an unexplainable energy as he took in gulps of air.

"You're…"

Killian's attempt at registering the news only excited Emma more. She felt giddy, every nerve on edge and exciting every part of her body. She couldn't help the excited cry that escaped her lips as she threw her arms around his neck.

Killian was ready for her, his hands gripping at her thighs and lifting her off her feet and into his arms.

"Babe, I'm pregnant," she sighed. "I'm pregnant !" Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pressed herself tighter against him.

"We're having another baby." His expression softened then, his eyes losing a bit of their wildness and holding nothing but love for her, for their family.

A hand left her thigh, finding the back of her head and pressing her closer for his kiss.

His enthusiastic kiss, a slip of his tongue across her lips before plunging into her mouth, became something much tender. His fingers slipped lovingly through her hair, gently urging for her to stay close. His mouth angled, opening carefully and slowly sipping at her mouth and languidly feasting.

It almost made her cry out again, the tenderness being expelled in that moment. Or maybe it was the way he swung them both around, taking strong and heavy steps until her back fell against the wall.

It was only then that Killian broke off the kiss. Placing enough space between them in order to look her in the eye again, he silently let himself drink her in.

Emma felt herself wilt into that wall, but her legs tightened around his waist, keeping them close together. Her thoughts turned towards their sleeping infant son just a room away. Their son, who had his father's black hair and blue eyes, his mother's nose and dimpled chin… And…

They were really and truly being blessed with another baby…

Three...

"You know what this means, don't you?" Killian sifted his fingers through her hair, his eyes still a bit stunned by the news as he watched the movement of her hair between his fingers.

Emma sunk even more against the wall. She offered him a small smile even as she took in a shaky breath.

"That… you finally get to have the mini-van of your dreams?" Emma asked lightly, her eyes wide and as innocent as the baby who was asleep in his bassinet.

Killian's eyes narrowed on her, the surprise present on his face as he bit down on his lip.

"That's true," he whispered, slowly nodding his head. "I finally get to have the mini-van of my dreams."

The deep chuckle that resonated up from his chest mixed with her own happy laughter.

It wasn't the morning she was expecting. Far from it. But she couldn't have been any happier. No, there was no way that it could have been any better than this right here.

Slipping her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, listening to his light sighs, and watching his eyes close, Emma swallowed back the emotion that threatened to close her throat. Her legs tightened once more around his waist, lifting herself higher against him. Closing her own eyes, she brought him close enough to kiss, letting her lips linger in a way that showed just how much she loved him.

And she did love him, him and the family he had given her. She love him with all of her heart. And as her name fell quietly from him lips and his fingers slipped across her cheek, she knew he felt the same. It was- she didn't let the challenges clog her mind too long, not when they were having this moment… It was… Unconditional. It was… forever.

* * *

 **A/N: Comments have made me change the gender of Swan-Jones baby #2. It's a girl. Although I didn't plan on writing anynore, it's possible that if I get the right idea or prompt, I will revisit the again. If you want, check out my Google-searched inspirations for Declan and McKenna Jones.** **I'm leaving a link to show images of the kids.**

 **document/d/1Po6CHs3VgCvR6390q2YAolI61nzs_TaNW8dkSh-CmX4/edit?usp=sharing**


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